I feel her shift so the head of my cock presses against her entrance, just barely, just enough to tease. And I’m shaking.Fucking shaking.
I try to wait. Try to let her control the pace. Try to be patient.
But then?—
Something inside me snaps.
With a growl that barely sounds human, I grab her hips and drive myself into her with one deep thrust.
The sound she makes is half a gasp, half a broken moan, her fingers clutching my shoulders like she was expecting the hesitation, not the fire.
I don’t give her time to adjust. I can’t. Because the second I’m fully inside her, with her heat wrapped around me and body molding to mine—it’s over. My control is fucking gone.
Her nails dig into my skin, her hips jerking against me, meeting me, taking me deeper, like she doesn’t want slow either.
And God help me, I don’t think I’ll survive this.
“Nova…” Her breasts press against my chest, and her heart hammers in time with mine.
“You feel so good,” she pants out.
“I’m not going to last,” I warn while my grip on her hips tightens, trying to keep her pace steady, but it’s no use.
She’s too much—too perfect, too beautiful, too everything I’ve ever wanted but thought I couldn’t have.
“Then let go for me.” Her words undo me, and with one last roll of her hips, I’m gone. My release rips through me, leaving me trembling and gasping as I bury my face in her neck, holding her as tightly as I dare.
My ears are ringing when I come back to earth, but Nova’s murmured words break through the noise. “I love you.”
I try to catch my breath while her fingers brush through my hair.
“I love you, too, but fuck, that was disappointing.”
God, she’s never going to have sex with me again.
“Nothing about you could ever be disappointing.”
The knot in my chest loosens enough to allow me to breathe again.
We collapse onto the bed together, her body tucked against mine, and I don’t feel trapped. I don’t want to escape this.
Icraveit.
Crave her.
“Need more of you,” I murmur into her hair, breathing in her candy scent.
“Need more of you, too,” she whispers as she shifts off me, making me pull out, but she’s still close enough for her breath to brush my neck. “Give me your hand.”
I lift it slowly, hesitant. She takes it gently, pressing it between her hands, her warmth seeping into my skin. Then, she moves, guiding my hand with hers, sliding down over my chest.
Her fingers intertwine with mine, featherlight, barely there—her touch a whisper against my skin as she leads me over the ridges of my stomach, the curve of my ribs as if she’s mapping me out, memorizing me through the bridge of our joined hands.
The contact is so soft it undoes me.
And yet,it burns.
“Trouble,” I rasp, my pulse hammering as she keeps guiding me, keeps touching me. And I don’t know if I want her to stop or never stop.
