“I want to make this right,” I murmured against his throat, lips brushing his pulse. “I want to stop running.”
“You’re not running now,” Tru whispered, his voice wrecked and low. His nails grazed my spine and every muscle in my body tightened.
“I’m trying,” I breathed. “Just—tell me what you want.”
He exhaled shakily, tipping his hips up into mine in a way that made my whole brain short-circuit.
“You,” he said.
Just that. One word. A prayer. A dare.
Every touch lit me up, pushed me further over that invisible line I’d been terrified to cross. I kissed him again, deeper, harder, until he was gasping into my mouth, until there was nothing left between us except heat and breath and everything we’d been too scared to say.
Tru’s breath hitched when I tugged at his pants, but he allowed me to drag them down his thighs.
“Take yours off,” he begged in a whisper.
As soon as we were both bare, I covered him with my body again. His mouth opened under mine, desperate, greedy, meeting me with a hunger that lit every nerve in me on fire. He tugged me closer, thighs bracketing my hips, pulling me down until we were nothing but skin and desire. My breath broke against his lips, half-moan, half-apology.
“Tru…” I choked out. “Tell me if I’m going too fast.”
“You’re not,” he gasped, dragging me even closer. “You’re finally right here.”
I let my hands roam, let my body speak, let every inch of closeness erase another measure of fear. Tru arched into me, trusting me, meeting me, pulling me deeper and deeper into him until there was no space left for hesitation. His dick rubbed against mine creating the most delicious friction. Tru’s wet cockhead dragged along my shaft, leaving a sticky trail that made the glide easier.
Heat pooled low in my stomach. His breath hitched. My pulse stuttered.
This—whatever it was, whatever we were—had always been inevitable.
I moved against him, a slow, grinding pressure that made him gasp into my mouth, made his fingers curl in my hair. My name fell from his lips like he couldn’t hold it in.
“Dare—”
And hearing that, the way he said it, the way he needed, snapped something clean in half inside of me. All the bravery I’d been faking all these years? It finally felt real.
I kissed down his neck, over his chest, tasting his heartbeat with every slow, frantic breath. His back arched off the mattress, hands fisting the sheets, and I felt him unravel under me.
I wanted to take him apart.
I wanted to learn him.
I wanted to earn him.
But mostly, I wanted to love him.
I pressed one last kiss to his mouth before trailing my lipsdown his body. His breath caught, fingers sliding into my hair, gentle at first… then tighter when I nipped lightly at the curve beneath his ribs.
He was shaking. Or maybe that was me.
His thighs parted when I shifted lower, as if his body trusted me more than I’d ever trusted myself. I settled between them, palms running up the insides of his legs, feeling every shiver, every twitch of anticipation.
“Dare…” Tru’s voice broke, barely a sound. Like he wasn’t sure if he should pull me closer or push me back.
I swallowed hard and looked up at him. God, he was beautiful—flushed, breathless, eyes blown wide with want and fear and something that felt like hope.
“I want this,” I told him. My voice didn’t shake, but everything inside me did. “I want you. Let me… let me take care of you.”
His chest rose in one sharp inhale. “You don’t have to,” he whispered.
