“Hands on the glass,” I growl. “Bent over.”
I grip her ass and grind against her. She pushes into me, my cock dripping with pre-cum.
“Fuck, I need to be inside you.”
“Finally, we’re on the same page.” She looks over her shoulder, smirking.
I pull my waistband down, and my cock bounces against her ass. I grip it and push inside her.
We both groan, the feeling of her walls around me like nothing I have ever felt.
The feel of her body in my arms, of her skin against me, spurs me to action, pounding her with all the frustration and desperation pent-up inside me.
When she comes apart, pushing off the window and sagging against me in my arms, I pick her up.
Taking her back to the island, I ease her down to the edge and enter her again, circling my hips.
“Eyes on me!” I demand.
This time, I go slowly, building us both up as we gaze at each other. It’s like we’re re-committing with our bodies before we’re ready to move forward.
My orgasm hits me like a freight train, my legsgiving in. Cora pulls me with her, lying on her back on the marble surface. Collapsing on top of her, I try to even out my breath.
“I love you,” I pant.
She grabs my face, her eyes sparkling like they used to when we were still us. “I’m yours, Xander. I’m here to stay.” She finally says the words I craved. “And I’m scared shitless.”
I kiss her deeply.
“We’re on the same page, Coraline. Losing you was the worst nightmare. I’m ready to start dreaming with you.”
Epilogue
Cora
“You’re sure about this?” Tessa fidgets with a spoon, stirring her cappuccino until it’s a sad beige mess.
The bistro smells of saffron, baking, and bittersweet nostalgia. A soft drizzle taps the windows, the way it used to on the slow weekday mornings when my dad would hum old songs while restocking the pastry case.
I lean against the familiar counter. Or in the familiar corner, because this counter is new, and the dents and scratches on it are prefab to make it look aged.
The original counter is at our house in Chelsea. Just a memory—one I want to keep.
I run my fingers over the polished surface,standing where I stood so many times before; only this time I’m not drowning in receipts, or wondering how to make rent.
I eye the folder of papers open between me and Tessa.
“I’m sure.” I slide the signed paperwork across. My voice is steadier than I expected. “This place needs someone who still dreams of it.”
“You think it’s me?” She gives me a skeptical pout.
“It’s you. Dad built this place, I babysat it for a moment, but you took it to a completely new level.”
Tessa studies me with her half grin. “I still can’t believe we survived working together, with no homicide involved.”
“Because I locked away the knives,” I deadpan.
She snorts. “Or more like you didn’t show up much.”
