"Come for me again," he commands against my ear, voice rough and absolute. "One more time, Lily."
I whimper, the sound pitiful and desperate. "I can't. Luan, I can't. It's too much."
"You can." His fingers work faster, the pressure perfect, overwhelming. "You will. Now."
And because my body apparently belongs to him more than it belongs to me, because the command in his voice triggers something primal and beyond my control, I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me, bigger than the others, longer, more devastating. I'm not sure where it ends and I begin, not sure if I'm screaming or silent, not sure of anything except the pleasure tearing me apart and remaking me into something new.
I feel him follow seconds later, his groan of release vibrating through his chest into my back, his arms tightening around me as he buries himself as deep as possible and comes hard enough that I feel it even through the condom.
We collapse together, bodies tangled, both of us breathing like we've run miles. His weight partially on me, his face buried in my neck, one hand still splayed possessively across my stomach.
And somewhere in the middle of the aftershocks still rippling through me, in the space between heartbeats, I understand with crystalline clarity what just happened.
This wasn't fake. Wasn't performance. Wasn't part of the arrangement we made, the professional boundaries I tried to maintain, the distance I attempted to create just yesterday.
This was real.
22
LUAN
I'm the big spoon.
The realization settles over me slowly, my mind still hazy. Lily's back is pressed against my chest, her body fitting against mine like she was made for this exact position. My arm is draped over her waist, my hand resting on her stomach where I can feel the slow rise and fall of her breathing. Our legs are tangled together under the sheets, her calf tucked between mine, her skin soft and warm.
I don't cuddle. Ever.
I fuck, and when it's over there's no lingering, no soft morning intimacy, no waking up with someone in my arms like this matters beyond the physical release. Sex is a transaction in my world. A need met and then discarded. Something that happens between bodies, not people.
But Lily is different in a way I can't explain, in a way that bothers me because I don't do different. Don't make exceptions. Don't let people in like this, don't allow them access to the parts of myself I keep locked down and controlled.
And yet here I am. Holding her. Not wanting to let go.
She stirs against me, her breathing changing as consciousness returns. I feel the shift in her body, the way she becomes aware of where she is, who she's with, what we did last night.
I press a kiss to her shoulder. Just because I can. Just because she's here and warm and mine in this moment.
She turns in my arms until we're facing each other, her hair spilling across the pillow, her blue eyes still heavy with sleep. We kiss, lazy and slow, no urgency behind it. Just tasting each other in the morning light that filters through the curtains. Her mouth is soft under mine, her hands resting on my chest, her body relaxed and pliant.
This is wrong. I should be pulling away. Creating distance. Reasserting boundaries that got obliterated last night in the heat and need and desperate connection.
But I don't want it to stop.
I want to stay here. In this bed. With her. Let the world outside this room continue without me for once.
Except I can't.
"I would love nothing more than to stay in bed with you all day," I say against her mouth, meaning every word. "But unfortunately I have things to do."
She makes a small sound of protest, and I feel it like a physical pull in my chest. The desire to give her what she wants, to ignore responsibility and obligation and everything waiting for me outside this room.
I can't. But the fact that I want to is dangerous enough.
"I'm going to shower," I tell her, pulling back just enough to see the outline of her face. "And you're coming with me."
I take her hand, threading my fingers through hers. Lead her to the bathroom, navigating by memory and the growing light I can sense more than see.
