A low, broken sound escapes me, half from restraint, half from surrender. I brush my lips down her jaw, against her neck, feeling her pulse racing under my mouth. She gasps, trembling, pressing herself further against me. I can feel the fragile tremor in her spine, and it makes me grip her tighter, needing to keep her steady, needing to be the only solid thing beneath her.
Her hands slide under my shirt, warm and insistent. I let her explore, let her lead, while I keep her anchored to reality, to safety, to me. Every inch of her pressed to mine tells me she’s been holding back, surviving in small, controlled doses. Now… now she’s letting it out, letting me in, allowing herself to exist without fear, just for this moment.
I pull back slightly, just enough to look at her, see her eyes glassy and bright, the hint of tears. I gently brush the strands of hair back off her face, and she leans into my touch like she trusts it to heal her, even for a second.
I whisper against her lips, “I’ve got you. No matter what.”
And with that, she melts into me again, and I give in completely. I let my hands roam, my body press fully against hers, letting every restrained part of me meet the part of her that’s been waiting to be held, to be wanted, to be safe.
The room fades. The world shrinks to just us—breath, warmth, skin, heartbeat—and for the first time in a long time, we both let ourselves feel alive.
Her lips are still on mine, soft but insistent. She’s small, fragile, but she presses her weight into me like she’s been holding herself together for years, and now she doesn’t have to.
I tilt my head, deepening the kiss, letting my mouth claim hers for just a moment—just enough to let her know I’m here, I’m steady, I’m not going anywhere. Her hands fumble at the buttons of my shirt, pulling me closer, and I can’t help the low sound that escapes me. Half frustration, half surrender.
Her fingers graze the waistband of my jeans, and I catch her hand, pressing it against the hard bulge straining there, silently telling her she’s safe. She gasps softly, and I let my other hand slide along her spine, holding her like she’s the only thing in the world I need to protect.
The kiss deepens, unrelenting, desperate. Her body molds to mine, every trembling ounce of her pressed against me, and I feel something stir deep inside—a need to be close, to shield her, to claimher in the only way that matters right now: fully, completely, without restraint.
She clings to me, lips moving hungrily against mine, hands gripping my shoulders, and I can feel her soul pressing into mine, every fragment of chaos and pain and longing. I respond in kind, letting my hands and mouth communicate what words never could. She’s mine to hold, mine to protect, mine to let breathe for just this one perfect, urgent, fragile moment.
And as we finally part for breath, her forehead resting against mine, I feel it—the truth I can’t hide anymore. I’m not just protecting her. I’m in this, all of me, and I’ve been pulled in so completely that nothing else matters.
Her chest rises and falls against mine, slow and steady now, and I cradle her in my arms, letting her rest against me. I’ve got her. I always will.
My hands cup her thighs, slide beneath the fabric of her black, purposely ripped jeans, feeling the heat of her skin through the tears in the denim, and she arches into me, gasping, clinging tighter. It’s like every ounce of fear and longing and chaos inside her is flowing into me, tethering us together.
I guide her upstairs to the bedroom, keeping her pressed against me, letting her weight mold into mine as we stumble through the door. Inside, her back hits the mattress, and coax her to lie down. I hover over her, letting her adjust, letting her feel my presence, my warmth, my control, my protection. Her hands trace my chest, fingers grazing the buttons of my shirt, nails lightly pressing into the fabric, and I respond, leaning down to capture her lips again, my tongue thrusting deep into her mouth.
She tremors beneath me, her hips lifting, pressing her core against the rigid length of my cock trapped in my jeans. I growl low in my throat, breaking the kiss to trail my mouth down her neck, sucking hard on the sensitive skin there, marking her as mine. My hands move to the hem of her black shirt, bunching it up slowly, exposing the soft plane of her stomach. I drag my lips lower, licking along her collarbone as I push the shirt higher, over her ribs, until her breasts spill free—full and heaving with each breath.
“Fuck, Lucky,” I murmur against her skin, my voice rough with need. “You're so goddamn beautiful.”
I yank the shirt over her head in one swift motion, tossing it aside, and immediately latch onto one nipple, sucking it deep into mymouth, my tongue flicking over the hardened peak. She cries out, her fingers threading into my hair, pulling me closer as her back arches off the bed.
I switch to the other breast, biting gently before soothing with a swirl of my tongue, my hand kneading the first one, pinching the nipple between my fingers until she whimpers. All the while, my hips grind against hers, the friction of our clothes—my jeans against her ripped denim—building the ache between us. She's barefoot, her toes curling against the sheets, and I love how vulnerable she looks like this, stripped down to just her jeans now, trembling under my touch.
Her hands fumble at my shirt buttons again, more insistent this time, popping them open one by one. I pull back just enough to shrug it off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, baring my chest to her exploring fingers. She traces the lines of my muscles, nails scraping lightly over my inked skin, and I hiss in pleasure, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss.
I slide down her body, my mouth worshipping every inch—kissing her navel, dipping my tongue into it before moving lower. My hands hook into the waistband of her jeans, fingers working on the fastening and zip.
“Lift up for me,” I command softly, my tone laced with that possessive edge, and she obeys instantly, raising her ass off the bed.
I peel the tight denim down her legs slowly, deliberately, savoring the way it clings to her thighs before sliding off. The rips reveal glimpses of her pale, inked skin as I tug them free, and when they're finally off, I toss them aside, leaving her completely bare. She’s not wearing any panties, her pussy is exposed, glistening with arousal, and I groan at the sight, my cock throbbing painfully against my zipper.
I kick off my work boots one by one, the heavy thud echoing in the room as I stand at the edge of the bed. Lucky watches me with wide eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly, lips parted. I unbuckle my belt, the metal clinking, then pop the button of my jeans and drag the zipper down, freeing some of the pressure on my erection.
She reaches for me, but I shake my head, stepping out of my jeans and shoving my boxers down in one go. My cock springs free, thick and hard, the tip already leaking pre-cum. Her eyes lock on it, and she licks her lips unconsciously, making me growl.
“Not yet, darling. I need to taste you first.”
I climb back onto the bed, settling between her spread thighs, my hands gripping her hips to hold her steady. I lean in, inhaling her scent—musky and sweet—before dragging my tongue along her slit, from her entrance to her clit. She bucks against my mouth, a sharp cry escaping her, and I pin her down with one hand on her stomach, the other spreading her folds open.
I lick her again, slower this time, circling her clit with the flat of my tongue before sucking it between my lips. Her thighs tremble around my head, her heels digging into my back as she writhes. I thrust my tongue inside her pussy, fucking her with it, tasting her wetness as it coats my chin.
“So fucking wet for me,” I mutter against her, the vibrations making her gasp. “This pussy is mine, Lucky. All mine.”
She moans my name, her fingers twisting in the sheets, and I add two fingers to the mix, sliding them deep into her tight heat, curling them to hit that spot that makes her scream. I pump them in and out, matching the rhythm of my tongue on her clit, building her up until her body tenses, her breath coming in short pants.
