Her moans on my tongue, the soft plushness of her curves beneath me as I trail my hands over her body, as I touch her silky skin, as I drift my fingers down her torso and slip them between her legs.
“Rhodes,” she murmurs, her head dropping back, her hair spread out on the pillow beneath her.
“So beautiful,” I murmur as I kiss along the path my fingers took—tasting her inch by inch. Flush skin and the soft musk of her desire and the tartness of her pleasure on my tongue.
Slick and hot andmine.
I nuzzle at her, stroking her most sensitive spots, sucking at the others that bring her pleasure, using the flat of my tongue on her clit until she’s writhing beneath me.
But when I go to send her over the edge, she grabs my shoulders. “No,” she whispers.
“Baby?”
“Together.”
And I can’t argue that.
Slowly, I crawl up her body, gently slip inside, and?—
We both groan.
“Perfect,” I say as I draw out, as I slide in, as I start us on a lazy rhythm that willoh so gentlycoax us up and over the edge.
“No.” She smiles. “Not perfect. Just…us being brave.”
“God, I love you,” I whisper.
She touches my jaw. “I love you too.”
And the sound of those words…they unravel my control.
Suddenly, we’re moving faster, more urgently, seeking out the peak rather than letting it come to us…
And maybe it’s notperfectexactly. But it’s more than I ever dreamed possible.
Watching her face as pleasure overtakes her, feeling the tight clasp of her around me, hearing my name on her tongue, and?—
Having her hold me close when my own orgasm sends me over the edge.
Afterward, neither of us moves for long moments.
Or maybe it’s that neither of us has the strengthtomove.
She lies sprawled against my side, her legs tangled with mine, while the city hums softly beyond the window.
I trace my finger over her shoulder, her arm, along the back of her hand, lacing her fingers with mine.
I don’t want to break the peace we’ve managed to claw back.
But I have to.
“I need to head home tomorrow,” I say carefully. “I can stay tonight, but I have to get back to Chloe. And the season.”
She’s quiet for a beat. Then another. And I brace.
For her to tell me she loves me but this isn’t the right time.
For her to say she loves me but she still doesn’t trust me to take care of her.
