He stilled, looking up at me with burning eyes.
“No,” he corrected, voice low and thick. “We’retaking this. Together.”
He slurped noisily, using lots of spit and tongue. My toes curled in my socks. And when he finally moved, it was with intention. Dare slicked his cock and crawled between my parted thighs, positioning himself at my hole. He pressed inside and fell over me, distracting me from the burn with kisses and breathy whispers.
With his eyes locked on mine, we moved together, sweet and filthy, creating a burning friction between us that smoldered.
“You look good in my name,” he rasped. “It’s like a collar. Everyone can see who you belong to.”
I smiled against his skin, my breath hot on his neck. “Maybe someday we can make it permanent."
He growled, flipping me to straddle his cock, the jersey hiking up over my ass as I ground against him, helpless.
He raised up to lick over my flat stomach, fingers digging into my ass cheeks. “Ride my cock while I stare at you in that jersey,” he rasped, and I swore I’d never recover.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Tru, slow down.” The growl turned into a moan when I moved my hips over his groin, dizzy with want. “Tell me you’re mine,” he said, rutting up into me, eyes wild.
“I’m yours,” I whispered. “Always have been. Always.” My dick bobbed as I rode him, drawing Dare’s gaze.
His mouth slid down my neck, kissing lower. In a flash, Dare flipped me again, licking down my body. Lifting my thighs. Opening me with a reverence that bordered on worship. He took me apart with his mouth like he was fluent in every part of me. Every touch felt intentional, like he wasn't just chasing an orgasm but anchoring me to this moment, this bed,him.
His wicked tongue licked over my hole, tasting, testing, before diving inside me. My mind was seconds from exploding. Clear fluid seeped from the tip of my dick. I’d die if he didn’t get inside me again.
Dare must have read my mind. He hooked my ankles over his shoulders and drove deep into my hole with mindless determination.
I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, just felt. My body was a conduit for his need and his pleasure. I existed for him, always. But in that moment, I existed only for the fullness.
He slammed into me repeatedly, inching me up the bed. The heat in his eyes was feral. Drops of sweat fell from his forehead onto my stomach. When we came, it wasn’t pretty—it was perfect. Messy and breathless, my fingers twisted in his hair, my heart beating so hard I thought it might crack open.
He kissed his way up my neck, slick with sweat, mouth swollen, and pressed his forehead to mine. His hand stroked my side through the crumpled jersey.
“Still think we need two beds?” he murmured.
I smiled against his mouth. “Not a chance.”
The wordsalways yoursechoed somewhere inside my full chest.
CHAPTER 44
DARE
Love isn’t about the big moments. It’s about who you want around when nothing’s happening at all.
Tru’s facefilled my screen. Flushed cheeks, soft lamplight, and that bright smile that twisted my gut with longing.
I was sitting cross-legged on my unmade bed, the sound of the box fan drowning out the crickets outside. His world looked golden and alive. Mine just looked like laundry piles and the glow of a cracked phone screen. His hair was a mess from running his hands through it, which he always did when he was excited. He was rambling about a pitch he’d made at the internship, how they’d actually used his concept for a level redesign, and I tried to keep up. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of the city through the window—neon reflections, car horns, the kind of noise that never shuts up.
I nodded, I smiled, I said all the right things. But all I could think was—God, I missed him.
He was a thousand miles away, and I’d gotten used to pretending that was fine. The school year had passed in a blur of happiness and settling into my own skin. Before I was ready, I was, once again, saying goodbye to Tru for another summer internship.
We FaceTime’ed every night. We texted constantly. We fell asleep on the phone more often than not, his breathing steady in my ear like a heartbeat I’d forgotten I needed. It was… safe. Surprisingly safe. Trustworthy.
But not enough.
Charlotte messaged daily, cheerful little reminders like, “Focus on building a future together, not the distance,” and, “When Tru’s internship finishes, we’re headed to the mountains for a family vacation!” It helped… somewhat. Mostly, I loved that she was rooting for us.
Tru wore my old practice jersey to bed, just to make me suffer. He’d hold up his takeout and ask what I was eating, as if we were still sitting in that crappy diner across from campus. He told me when he was sad or lonely. When he had to work late or go in early, or the subway made him late, or he stepped in gum for the third time that week.
