She didn’t speak either. Her hands stayed firm against my back. She wasn’t clinging, but she wasn’t letting go. We stood there for a long time, neither of us moving, neither of us filling the silence.
I rested my chin on top of her head. My throat was tight, but I didn’t try to clear it. There was no pressure to speak, no need to explain anything. Being here, holding her like this, felt better than anything else that had happened in weeks.
Her hand pressed lightly against my ribs. She shifted, then looked up at me. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes searching mine with a kind of focus that made it hard to breathe. She didn’t ask for permission. She didn’t need to.
She leaned in and kissed me once. Soft at first. Intentional. Like she was giving herself time to feel it. She pressed her lips against mine gently, without hesitation, but letting them linger to see what happened next.
I responded just as carefully, brushing my mouth over hers. Her hands shifted, one lifting to rest against my chest, the other sliding up to my neck. I let my thumb trace along her jaw as I kissed her again, slower this time. She tilted her head slightly, adjusting the angle, deepening the connection enough to let it build.
Her lips parted barely, and I followed the invitation. I kept the kiss steady. Not rough, not fast. Just full. Every movement of her mouth against mine told me she was still here, still choosing this.
I tightened my arm around her waist, pulling her a fraction closer. Her body met mine without resistance. Her fingers curled against the back of my neck, and the sound she let out, a sexy little moan, caused heat to stir in my gut.
We kissed again and again. The kind of repetition that didn’t need to end until one of us pulled back. When she did, it wasgradual. Her lips lingered on mine like she wasn’t quite ready to stop.
When she finally eased away, her forehead hovered in front of mine. Her eyes stayed closed for a few seconds longer, her breathing uneven. I didn’t say anything. I kept my hand on her back, steady, while my other palm rested at the base of her neck.
“Let’s go to bed, honey,” I whispered, staring deep into her brown eyes. They were wide with love, lust, and trust—a combination I was addicted to. She made me feel strong and brave, and I wanted to cherish this woman. I moved my hand lower, opening it, and she placed hers in there.
Even as her breathing slowed, even as the silence wrapped around us again, she kept her fingers curled through mine. My thumb moved over the side of her palm. Slow. Reassuring. I didn’t need anything more than this, but I wanted to give her more if she asked. We made it to my bedroom, and I shut the door, staring at her as my blood heated. She was so fucking perfect.
Her gaze moved to my mouth, then returned to my eyes, her chest heaving more than it had before.
I didn’t ask. I leaned in and kissed. She cupped my face, her fingers skimming my cheek like she needed to learn it by feel. I kissed her deeper, not harder, and she leaned in like she had been waiting for the space to close.
She pulled back slightly, not with distance, but with a shift in focus. Her eyes searched mine, then her fingers moved to the hem of my shirt. She didn’t tug. She waited.
I nodded once.
She lifted it slowly, brushing the fabric over my chest. I raised my arms and let her pull it off fully. Her eyes moved across my skin like she was taking in every detail, not judging, not hesitating. Her fingers followed next, light and deliberate as they moved across my collarbone, then down to the center of mychest where the monitor electrodes had been earlier. She kissed the spot right after my heart, and my eyes fucking stung.
“You’re so strong, Oliver, and I need you to know that.” She kissed my chest again, and I had to have her skin on mine. I wanted nothing between us. Without breaking the calm pace we had going, I teased the hem of her hoodie, watching her expression. She gave a slight nod, which was all I needed.
I pulled it up, careful not to rush, and revealed a fitted tank beneath it. Her breath hitched when my hand brushed the bare skin at her waist. I didn’t linger there, not yet. I dropped the hoodie on the chair nearby and let my gaze return to hers.
She reached for me again, her hands running up my shoulders, then along my back. The contact soothed me. I leaned forward and kissed her again, letting my mouth move over hers with quiet certainty. She sighed into it, and that sound stayed with me.
I let my fingers slide under the hem of her tank. I waited again. She didn’t move to stop me. I lifted it over her head, revealing more skin, more of her, and I could barely breathe from how much I wanted to memorize every part of her.
We didn’t speak. We kept our hands moving. Her fingertips traced down my stomach. Mine cupped her waist. Every touch held purpose. Nothing was rushed. Her skin was warm against mine. Her mouth parted when I kissed the corner of her jaw. Her fingers trembled slightly as they touched the waistband of my sweats.
I helped her undo the drawstring, and she pushed the fabric down with care. I stepped out of them, still watching her face. She took her time with her leggings, peeling them off without turning away. She didn’t try to hide. I didn’t look anywhere but her eyes until she stepped closer.
When we finally moved to the bed, our touches weren’t fast. I sat first. She climbed in beside me, our bodies still inches apart.I reached for her hand again. She laced our fingers together without hesitation.
I kissed her shoulder. She kissed my neck. I moved slowly, learning the shape of her body as she breathed as our bodies pressed together. There was no moment where our touching shifted from comfort to something more. It unfolded, piece by piece, as she laid back and pulled me with her.
Her hands held my face. I kissed her deeply. I didn’t push. I followed her lead. I slowly entered her, bare and thick, and she moaned my name as I sucked her neck.
“Yes, you feel so good. God, you feel so good like this,” she said, arching up and kissing me. I rocked into her, but this wasn’t frenzied or lust-filled.
We moved slowly, gently, where every breath she took I felt, every sigh caused my body to react. She never stopped kissing me or moving her hands as I thrust in a slow rhythm. God, I loved this.
“I love your body, your sounds, your mind,” I said, kissing her temple as heat spread over my body. “Rock those hips up, baby.”
She did, and I adjusted my angle so she could come with me when it was time. I focused on her, on her pretty nipples and smooth skin. I focused on her large brown eyes with dark lashes, the full plump lips that parted with my name.
I was pretty sure I was in love with her. I loved Sloane. I loved the team mental health doctor, and despite all the reasons I shouldn’t, I didn’t care. Admitting it, even in my mind, caused a flurry of feelings and sensations, all warmth and heat, and my spine tightened. “Come with me, Sloane, I need to feel your orgasm.”
