And then she shatters.
Coming apart around me like a prayer and a promise all at once.
Her pussy clenches tight, pulling me over the edge with her.
I curse, loud and filthy, as I empty inside her with a roar, hips jerking, burying myself deep one final time.
We collapse together, tangled in sweat and limbs and everything we haven’t said yet.
She’s breathing hard beneath me, but she doesn’t let go.
Neither do I.
I press a kiss to her temple.Her cheek.Her mouth.
And when I whisper, “I’m yours,” against her lips, I mean every word.
Because I am.
All of me.
Forever.
Her eyes do it.
That soft, stunned look—like she’s still trying to wrap her head around the fact that this is real.
That I’m real.
That we just crossed a line neither of us can ever uncross.
It hits me straight in the chest.
And my body reacts before my brain can catch up.
I’m still inside her, still feeling the aftershocks of what we just shared, when I feel myself hardening again.
Not from friction.Not from movement.
Just from her.
From the way she looks at me like I’m something sacred and dangerous all at once.
“Again,” I murmur, my voice rough, barely held together.“Angel, slower this time.”
I rock my hips gently, keeping it controlled, deliberate.
My thrusts are shallow, the base of my cock grinding against her.
Every movement is measured, intentional, like I’m memorizing the way she responds to me.
She exhales, shaky, breath catching as her body welcomes me all over again—warm, wet, open.
Like she was made to fit me.
And fuck yes, she was.
Her body tightens around me, a slow, instinctive response that makes my jaw clench.
