The sun's barely up,just a thin gray line sneaking through the blinds, turning everything in the room soft and hazy. I'm curled on my side, back pressed to Lucky's chest, his arm heavy across my waist like he still thinks I might disappear if he loosens his grip even a little. His breathing is slow and even against my neck, warm puffs that make the tiny hairs there stand up. I don't want to move. Don't want to break whatever this quiet bubble is after last night. But I have to know. I keep my voice low, barely above a whisper. "Are you awake?"
His arm tightens instantly, fingers spreading wide over my stomach, pulling me back harder against him. A sleepy grunt rumbles in his throat.
I smile into the pillow. "Are we good?"
He shifts behind me. The mattress dips as he props himself up on one elbow. His hand slides up to cup my jaw, gentle but firm, turning my face so I'm looking up at him. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, dark lashes messy, hair sticking up in every direction. But the way he looks at me? Clear. Steady. Like he'sseeing straight down to the bottom of my soul and liking every messy inch.
"Better than good," he says, voice rough from sleep and whatever emotions are still raw from yesterday. He leans down slowly, brushes his lips over mine once, twice, then lingers. The kiss is soft but deep, the kind that says more than words ever could.
I turn in his arms until I'm on my back, looking straight up at him. He follows, bracing on his forearms so his weight is on me but not crushing. His hips settle between my thighs, familiar and perfect, like our bodies already know the shape of each other.
"You sure?" I ask, fingers tracing the scar along his collarbone, the one he got overseas he never talks about. "Because last night was... a lot. And I don't want you waking up regretting spilling your guts to me."
He huffs a quiet laugh, drops his forehead to mine. "The only thing I regret is waiting so long to tell you." His thumb strokes my cheek. "I thought saying it out loud would make you run. Instead you wrapped around me tighter. How the hell am I supposed to regret that?"
My chest gets tight in the best way. I slide my hands up his back, nails dragging lightly, feeling the muscles shift under my palms. "I meant what I said. Every broken piece. I want them all."
His eyes darken, pupils blowing wide. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I hook one leg around his hip, pull him closer until I can feel him hardening against me. "Show me we're good."
He groans low, rocks forward just enough to make me gasp. "You're gonna kill me, Firecracker."
"Good way to go," I murmur, tilting my hips up to meet him.
He kisses me again, harder this time, tongue sliding against mine like he's claiming every corner of my mouth. One hand slips between us, fingers finding me already wet, circling slow and deliberate until my breath hitches.
"Lucky..."
"Shh." He nips my bottom lip. "Let me take care of you now."
He shifts down my body, kisses a trail over my collarbone, between my breasts, stomach fluttering under his mouth. When he settles between my thighs, shoulders spreading me wide, I thread my fingers through his hair and hold on.
The first swipe of his tongue makes my back bow. He doesn't tease. He devours. Licks and sucks and presses two fingers inside me, curling just right, like he mapped every sensitive spot last night and memorized it. My hips jerk. His free arm bands across my stomach, pinning me down so I can only take what he gives.
"Fuck," I whisper, head thrashing on the pillow. "Don't stop."
He hums against me, the vibration ripping a moan out of my throat. My thighs start to shake. Heat coils tight and fast in my belly.
He pulls back just long enough to look up at me, lips shiny, eyes wild. "Come on my tongue, baby. Let me taste how much you trust me."
That's it. The words hit like a match to gasoline. I shatter, crying out his name, fingers yanking his hair, hips grinding against his mouth as wave after wave crashes through me.
He doesn't stop until I'm boneless, trembling. Then he crawls back up, kisses me deep so I taste myself on him. I wrap both legs around his waist, urging him closer.
"Inside," I beg against his mouth. "Need you inside me."
He reaches between us, lines up, pushes in slow and steady until he's seated deep. We both groan at the stretch, the fullness, the way it feels like coming home. He starts moving, long rolling thrusts that hit every nerve. No rush. Just deep, deliberate strokes that make my toes curl.
I lock eyes with him. "I love you."
His rhythm falters for a second, then he drops his head to my shoulder, voice wrecked. "Love you more. Fuck, baby. So much more."
We keep moving like that, slow and deep, every roll of his hips dragging out the pleasure until it hurts in the best way. My hands roam his back, nails tracing the muscles that flex under my touch. His mouth finds mine again and again, messy kisses that taste like coffee and salt and us.
"I love you," I whisper against his lips, the words slipping out between shaky breaths.
He groans low, forehead pressed to mine. "Love you too, baby. Fuck... so much."
