Her eyes flutter open. Dark and endless, filled with something that terrifies me.
I keep my gaze locked on hers as I drive into her again and again. Watch her fall apart beneath me. Watch her rebuild and shatter once more.
"Come for me," I grit out. "I want to feel you come on my cock."
She shatters.
Her whole body seizes, inner walls clamping down on me so tight I see stars. She cries out my name, and the sound of it on her lips pushes me over the edge.
I bury myself to the hilt and let go.
The orgasm tears through me like wildfire. I empty myself inside her with a groan that comes from somewhere deep and primal. Somewhere I didn't know still existed.
For a long moment, neither of us moves.
I'm still inside her. Still on top of her. Our bodies slick with sweat, our breathing ragged.
Then she laughs.
It's a soft sound. Delighted and satisfied and so purely Claire that my chest aches.
"What's funny?" I ask.
"Nothing." She traces patterns on my shoulder blade. "I just never imagined it would be like that."
"Like what?"
She smiles up at me. That smile that's so like Marcus's and yet entirely her own.
"Like coming home."
The words should terrify me. Should send me running for the hills like I've been running for ten years.
Instead, I lower my head and kiss her softly.
Because she's right.
For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel like I've finally come home.
CHAPTER SIX
CLAIRE
Iwake to the smell of coffee and the sound of metal on metal.
For a moment, I don't know where I am. The bed is unfamiliar, the sheets softer than the ones at the inn, the pillow beneath my head carrying a scent that makes my stomach flutter.
Then I remember.
Max's hands on my skin. Max's mouth on my throat. Max inside me, filling me, claiming me in ways I didn't know I needed to be claimed.
Heat floods my cheeks as I stretch beneath the covers. My body aches in the most delicious way. Muscles I forgot I had protest the movement, reminding me of every position, every angle, every moment of last night.
We didn't just have sex once.
After that first desperate coupling, Max held me against his chest while our heartbeats slowed. I thought he might fall asleep. Instead, his hands started wandering again. Tracing the curve of my hip. The dip of my waist. The swell of my breast.
The second time was slower. More deliberate. He mapped every inch of my body with his mouth, learning what made me gasp and what made me moan. He brought me to the edge three times before finally pushing me over, and when he followed, my name was a prayer on his lips.
