“Do you still feel sore?” I ask, voice rough with restraint
He stares at me, flushed and trembling, lips parted. Then he shakes his head.
“No… not anymore.”
There’s heat in his voice now. Hunger and need.
I run my hands under his shirt again, dragging my fingers up his sides, then back down to grip his waist hard, then I roll my hips up again, grinding us together. He moans—soft, broken, like the sound was pulled from his throat without warning.
fuck.
“Are you sure?” I murmur. “Because if I take you right now, I’m not stopping, I will bury this cock in your tight ass, and you won’t have any choice but to take every thrust I give you.”
He lets out a whimper, clutching my shoulders as he looks at me with lust-filled eyes.
“I want that,” he whispers, voice trembling. “Please, Alex.”
fuck, he’s so damn Tempting.
My lips crash against his, deeper this time. Filthy. I slide my tongue into his mouth like I own it. He opens for me, moaning against me, his fingers digging into my shoulders like he’s trying to anchor himself.
I roll my hips up, grinding against him again, harder this time. And I feel his thigh trembling.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” I growl against his lips. “Every fucking night. Thinking about how tight you were. How you clenched around me when you came so beautifully for me,how perfect fucking you feel, how you take every inch of me like the princess you are.”
His head falls back. Eyes flutter shut.
I kiss his throat. His collarbone. Bite softly at the curve of it as he pans and writhes in my lap, his cock straining against the front of his shorts, grinding into mine like he’s losing himself.
Fuck, he’s gonna be the death of me.
THIRTY-SEVEN
LUCAS
Mike gives me a small nod from the driver’s seat, and I wave back, offering a faint smile before the car pulls away, leaving me standing in front of my apartment complex.
And I stand there for a moment. I haven’t been here in almost two weeks.
After Tyler’s birthday, I’ve been staying at Alex’s penthouse. He didn’t want me to leave. And honestly, I didn’t want to either. Not because I don’t like my apartment or my little room, or even living with Tyler—I do. I enjoy it. We’ve lived together for years, and we have built memories here; it’s familiar and comforting in its own way.
But something about staying with Alex feels… different. Unreal, almost.
Not because of the wealth. Not the penthouse or the good food or the expensive things he buys for me—none of that attracted me to him in the first place.
It’s him. The man I’ve come to care for.
The man I gave my body to.
The one who’s seen all of me, every part, every corner, every inch, He’s seen Everything except the part I can’t bring myself to say out loud, the part that broke me.
still, with him… I feel whole.
It’s new, a little bit overwhelming since it’s something I never thought could happen, but also so strangely easy. Waking up next to him, tangled in those big arms of his, my cheek against his bare chest, surrounded by his warmth and his scent, the way he buries his face in my hair or the curve of my neck in the mornings, and just breathes me in.
When I asked him once why he does that, he said, “Your scent calms me.”
If only he knew…
