Dom picks up the speed and adds more pressure.
“Oh, fuck. Yes, just like that.” His other hand reaches down and cradles my balls, testing out the feel before giving them a long tug. “Please, Dom, go over the edge with me.”
“I’m never leaving your side, Beckett.”
At the use of my actual name, I dive off the most beautiful rock-faced cliff. “I’m coming… Dom.”
“I’m here, baby,” he says, but it comes out strained as he falls with me. Warm, thick cum spills over his hand and mixes with mine.
The world goes quiet in the way it does right after a bell rings. His forehead rests against mine. Our chests find the same rhythm… in, out, in, out.
With our breathing labored, we cling to each other, too afraid to let go and burst whatever bubble this is. Life can throw whatever curveball it wants to, but I was meant to be here—just here—in Dom’s arms, with my heart finally choosing the simple truth over a loud lie. I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and let the words spoken earlier settle around us.
The morning sun filters through a crack in the curtain, casting a warm glow across Beckett’s face. He looks wrecked in the most beautiful way, hair all a mess, and a little drool on his pillow. Never thought I’d think drool and beautiful in the same sentence, but here we are. I can’t help but let out a soft chuckle as happiness bubbles to the surface and takes up residence in my chest.
His lashes flutter. I lean in and press a kiss to his forehead. “Good morning,” I say, voice still gravelly with sleep.
“Morning.” He smiles without opening his eyes and burrows deeper. The blankets make a cocoon of him.
“Oh no you don’t.” I hook an arm around his waist and haul him onto my chest. He lands with a warmoofand a grin.
“But I’m so cozy,” he groans. “Why are you denying me comfort?”
“Because you said you need to be at the Dragonfly in an hour to open for lunch.”
His head pops up, eyes wide and panicked. “Oh, shit!”
“Hey,” I chuckle, smoothing a hand down his back. “You’ve got time.”
“Mmmm, I haven’t slept that well in a really long time.”
I run my fingers through his hair once, twice, and feel that urgency rise—the good kind, the truth that wants out. “Beckett,” I say. “In case it wasn’t clear last night… I love you.”
A grin breaks over his face and hits me like blinding sunlight, while an equally goofy grin spreads across mine. “I love you too,” he says, voice full and silky. “And I hope you mean it, because now that it’s out in the open… I can’t go back to pretending this isn’t serious.”
“I can’t either.” I touch his jaw, so he knows I’m anchored right here with him. “We’ve been fooling ourselves, because this has nevernotbeen serious. I’m madly in love with you, little mouse.”
He lets out a shaky laugh that turns into a kiss, then another. We spend the next ten minutes trading I love yous like we found a new language of moans and declarations.
Eventually, we peel ourselves out of bed. He steals my hoodie, and I watch him swim in it, thinkingyep, he’s mine.
While he brushes his teeth, I head downstairs to make coffee. The sound of his singing off-key follows me. When he meets me in the kitchen, I hand him a mug of coffee that he cradles in both hands.
“I’m scared,” he admits suddenly, watching steam lift from his cup. “But the good kind.”
“Me too,” I say. “Good scared is just… new.”
He nods, sets his mug down, and steps into me, forehead to my collarbone. We stand like that for a beat longer than needed before we get ready to walk out the door. We dance around each other in a way that already feels practiced and natural at the same time.
On the drive, he keeps touching my knee like he’s checking to make sure this is all still real, that I’m not going to vanish. I hatethat he feels that way. I need to make sure that he understands how all-in I am.
We pull up to the curb outside Dragonfly. It’s dark on the inside, the string of lights off for now, and the chalkboard on the sidewalk is still blank, just waiting for today’s specials. It’s the kind of quiet before the place fills with patrons in desperate need of his bacon.
“Come by later?” he asks. “If you want. Alex sent over his pot roast recipe, and I’m going to try it for our dinner special.”
“I’ll be here.” I thumb the edge of his jaw.
He kisses me once, quick and certain, then again, longer. “Bye, Dom.”
