Wolfe kissed like ownership. Not brute force—not now. This wasn’t about breaking. This was about confirmation.
About knowing the pieces still wanted to come back to him. His other hand slid around my waist. Flat against my lower back. He didn’t push. He pulled. Slow. Until every inch of me was pressed to every inch of him.
I gasped softly. He swallowed it.
His mouth moved against mine. Down my jaw. My throat. He didn’t stop at the collarbone—he lingered. Mouth on bruises. Breath on old chains.
Where he touched, I stayed. The hand at my back slid lower. Guiding me. Not taking. Leading.
I turned slowly. Pressed my hands to the tile. Not commanded. Just offered.
He moved behind me. One palm flattened against my lower back again. Steady. The other traced up my spine. Each vertebra. A vow.
I felt him behind me—not hard yet. But close. Then he bent slightly. Mouth to the back of my neck.
“Breathe,” he said.
Just that.
And I did.
He slid his hand between my thighs.
Not urgent.
Not rough.
Just real.
His fingers found me already wet. He touched me like the world hadn’t just come undone. Like my body still knew who it belonged to. And God, it did.
He whispered something I didn’t catch. Too soft. Too close to prayer. And I rocked back against his hand. Needing him. Needing to prove I still knew how to be held. Not tamed. Not wrecked.
Just—
Held.
He pressed closer. Hard now. But he didn’t enter me. Not yet.
Just kept breathing behind me. And I stayed where he placed me. Because that’s where I belonged.
The sound he made when he slid into me wasn’t a growl. It wasn’t command. It was breath. A broken, guttural exhale. Like he’d been holding it for hours. Days. Weeks. Like this was the only way he could keep breathing.
He entered me slow.
Thick.
Careful.
Not because I was fragile. But because he needed it to last.
I pressed my palms harder against the tile. Felt him fill me inch by inch. Every line of my body stretched to meet his.
And still—he didn’t thrust.
He stayed there. Inside me. Breathing. His hands on my hips. Not gripping. Just steady. Like I was the only thing holding him up.
“Say something,” I whispered.
