He slides two fingers back inside me, pumping them in time with his tongue. I’m clenching around him, riding his face, past shame or embarrassment. I just need—I need?—
I’m grinding against his mouth, chasing it, and he takes everything I give him. His fingers curl inside me, hitting that spot over and over while his tongue circles my clit. He adds a third finger, stretching me wider, and the fullness makes me moan.
“Nate.”
“Gonna come.” I’m gasping, pulling his hair hard enough to hurt. “Nate, I’m gonna...”
He stops.
I sob in frustration as he pulls back—chin wet with my slick, eyes dark and satisfied.
“Not yet.”
“You bastard.”
“Yeah.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I am.”
I want to kill him. I want to kiss him. I want to drag him back down and ride his face until I come whether he likes it or not.
“Nate, please, I need...”
He crawls back up my body, caging me in with his arms. His mouth hovers over mine, not quite kissing. I can smell myself on his lips.
“You don’t get to leave me.” His voice is raw. “And then come back expecting this to be easy.”
“I don’t expect...”
“Ten years.” He reaches between us, undoes his jeans, shoves them down. When his cock springs free, hard and thick and already leaking, my mouth goes dry.
God. Ten years and my body still knows exactly what it wants.
He grinds his hips against mine and I feel him sliding through my slick, hot and hard and perfect.
“Nate.”
“Tell me you’re staying.” He notches himself at my entrance. “Tell me this is real.”
“It’s real.” The words come out broken. “I’m staying. I swear I’m staying.”
“Look at me.” He pushes in, just the tip, and we both gasp.
I force my eyes open. Tears are streaming down my temples, and his face is blurred above me, but I hold his gaze.
He pushes deeper, stretching me, filling me inch by inch. His jaw is clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek, like it’s taking everything he has not to just take.
He buries himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
I cry out. He’s so deep, so thick, stretching me so wide. His knot presses against my entrance, not quite inside yet, and I’ve never felt so full. I can feel every inch of him, throbbing inside me.
“Fuck.” His voice breaks. “You feel... god, Cara.”
“Move. Please move.”
He pulls out slowly, so slowly I feel every inch dragging against my walls, then slams back in.
“Never again.” His voice is raw. “You’re never running from me again.”
“I won’t.”
