So I do. Take my time.
Watch the way his back arches when I slide my fingers in a little deeper. The way he whimpers. His hands grip the towel. Then me. I pull my fingers out slowly, and I'm watching the way his body clenches, trying to hold onto me. He's breathing harder now, and his cheeks are flushed already. I pause. Just to look at him. To take him in, and the fact that he's trusting me completely. Letting me see him like this.
I slick my hand and wrap it around myself with zero rushing. God, the way he watches me like he's mesmerized, like he needs this as much as I do, makes me want to fall apart before I even touch him again.
Makes me want to get on my knees and beg for him. I stroke myself slowly, trying to coat every inch, making sure there's no rush, no tension, no edge to any of this.
Because this isn't about release. It's about him. About being inside him one last time, not to claim him, but to stay with him.
He opens his legs a little wider. Brings his knees up, inviting me in. His eyes are never leaving mine. There's no fear.
I line myself up. Hold his hips.
And then I start pushing inside. I drop my forehead to his. He is heaven. This time it feels like the whole world narrows to this one moment. I let out a shaky breath. He pulls me closer and hugs my shoulders while his legs are locking around my waist.
"Don't go slow," he whispers. "Just be with me."
I kiss him softly, and I start to move. In and out.
Not for friction or pace.
But like I'm sayingI love youwith every thrust.
Because I am. There's no one else out here. Just us. The sea. The wind. And the slow, soft sound of my hips meeting his. I keep moving in and out of him like time isn't literally chasing us.
My hand slides down his side, to feel the way he shivers when I hit the right spot. He gasps, and his fingers are digging into my back. "I'm so lucky it's you, Gio," he breathes.
I kiss his mouth gently. "Say it again and I swear I won't let you go." I murmur against his lips. My thrusts are still steady and not rushed. Just deep. The waves crash behind us. There are birds somewhere nearby, singing like idiots, like they don't know.
His hands roam, my shoulders, my jaw, my hair, not able to decide what part of me to hold on to. My lips find his throat, his collarbone, the shell of his ear. I whisper his name more than once. And his whining mine. Begging with it.
"Gio, don't stop—"
"Not gonna."
"Please—"
"I've got you, baby. Just stay with me."
He moans when I angle my hips just right, and he clenches around me so perfectly I almost lose it.
But I don't. Not yet. Because I want this to last. I want him to feel everything. I want him to remember the sound of our skin. And the way his name sounds on my tongue when I'm not holding anything back.
The sky brightens a little more. The air smells like salt. And I keep moving, in, out, in, slow and deep. Because if this is the last time, then I'm making it count.
His nails drag down my back, enough to sting, and enough to make me move a little deeper. He gasps quietly. That only happens when it's me inside him.
His mouth finds my jaw. "Gio—"
I press my forehead to his. My hand slips under his thigh, lifting him slightly. I'm changing the angle until I feel him clench and cry out beneath me. "Right there?" I ask, even though I know the answer. He nods, desperate. I give it to him again.
Deeper now. My hips roll slowly, again, and again, and again. Until we're both shaking. His legs tighten around my waist, locking me in. His hands are on my neck, my hair. I kiss him again. The waves crash behind us.
The sun's starting to spill light over the sand, gold and soft and too beautiful for a moment that hurts this much.
He moans into my mouth. My hand moves between us, wraps around him and strokes him in sync with every thrust. Every thrust says stay. Every kiss says please don't forget me.
"Gio I'm close—"
