His rhythm is ruthless—perfect.Deep thrusts that knock the air from my lungs. Every stroke pushes a sound from me I don’t recognize.
Not until his hand finds my cock again, stroking me in time with each snap of his hips.
Then Ireallyfall apart.
I come with a strangled gasp, spilling across my stomach, my whole body trembling as he fucks me through it.
And when he chokes my name, snapping forward and burying his face against my throat?—
I feel it.
All of it.
The heat, the want, theeverythingwe’ve been pretending didn’t exist.
SEVENTEEN
LOGAN
He’s trembling under me.
From everything we just did. Everything weare.His chest rises and falls in sharp, uneven breaths. His lashes are damp. His skin’s flushed red and slick with sweat and come and completelymine.
And I’m still inside him.
I don’t move.
Don’t breathe.
Because this? This feels like a line we can’t uncross. As if we went from something hot and reckless to somethingreal—and fuck me if that doesn’t terrify the hell out of me.
I press a kiss to the side of his throat anyway. Just below his jaw. It’s instinct now—like my mouth knows the map of him even if the rest of me’s still catching up.
He shivers again. Not pulling away. Not pushing me off. Just breathing.
I finally ease out of him, grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom to clean us both up. It’s quiet. Still.
I half expect him to say something cocky. Something tobreak the moment and bring us back to the surface. But he doesn’t.
When I toss the cloth into my laundry basket and climb back into bed, he shifts instinctively, letting me pull him in. His back against my chest. My arm draped over his waist like this is our normal.
It’s not. Not like this. And I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The second my skin brushes his, I feel it—that pulse of heat low in my gut, soft and dangerous. My heart thumps a little too loud.
I rest my forehead against the back of his neck and breathe him in. He smells like sweat and sex and faint traces of my cologne. It’s a brand I barely wear—but now I’ll never be able to smell it again without rememberingthis.
He’s quiet, but he doesn’t fall asleep.
Neither do I.
We just…stay there. Tangled. Warm. Real.
And fuck me, I don’t want to move.
I’m notsure when he curled into me—maybe it happened in the haze after—but now Todd’s tucked tight to my chest, one leg draped over mine, his fingers pressed into my ribs like he’s anchoring himself.
And I let him.
