The sensation is overwhelming. Pleasure builds fast and fierce, coiling tighter with each thrust, each stroke of his thumb. I’m making sounds I don’t recognize, saying his name, begging for more.
“I’m close,” I gasp.
“Come for me,” he says, and it’s not a request. It’s a command, low and rough and exactly what I need.
And I do. The orgasm crashes over me, waves of pleasure radiating out from my core, stealing my breath. I cry out, body clenching around him, and he groans, thrusts growing erratic.
He follows moments later, burying himself deep as he comes, my name on his lips like a prayer.
For a long moment, we stay like that, tangled together, breathing hard. Hearts pounding in sync.
Then he shifts, rolling to the side, pulling me with him so I’m tucked against his chest. His arm wraps around me, solid and warm.
I can feel his heartbeat under my palm, strong and steady. Feel the rise and fall of his breathing as it slows.
This should feel reckless. Impulsive. Like a monumental mistake.
But it doesn’t.
It feelsright.Like I’ve been heading toward this moment since the second I saw him standing below that rocky slope.
“You okay?” he murmurs against my hair.
I smile, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Yeah. I really am.”
He tightens his hold on me, and I close my eyes, letting the warmth and safety of it wash over me.
For the first time in a long time, I’m not planning the next step. Not worrying about what comes after.
I’m just here. Present. Alive in a way I’ve never felt before.
And it’s because of him.
Chapter Four
Duke
Iwaketopre-dawngray filtering through the windows. Trista is still asleep, curled against my chest, one hand resting over my heart. Her breathing is deep and even, peaceful.
I should probably ease away. Get up. Start the day. But I don’t move.
Instead, I watch her sleep and try to make sense of what I’m feeling.
I meant what I said last night. I don’t do this. Not like this. Not bringing someone to my home, into my space, into my bed within hours of meeting them. I’m careful. Deliberate. Slow to trust.
But with her, none of those rules seemed to matter.
From the moment I saw her frozen in fear on that slope, something in me recognized something in her. Not just attraction, though that hit hard and fast. But something deeper. Some instinct that saidPay attention.This one is special.
She shifts against me, making a small sound. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused for a moment before landing on me.
“Morning,” she says, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.”
She doesn’t pull away. Just stays where she is, looking up at me with those storm-gray eyes. “Did you sleep?”
“Some.”
