I hook my fingers into the waistband of her yoga pants, her underwear, and pull them down just enough. Just past her hips. She sucked in a breath. I press against her from behind, and I hear the small broken sound she makes when she feels how hard I am.
"Say yes," I tell her. "Out loud."
There’s a beat of silence. Maybe two. Her breath comes out unevenly against my throat.
"Yes." Her voice was wrecked. "Yes. Luka.Yes."
Something in my chest comes apart at the sound of it, but I don’t have time to examine it right now.
I push inside her slowly.
She gasps and slams her palm flat against the wall.
I go still, giving her a second. Feeling her. She's warm and tight, and I have to drop my forehead to her shoulder and remind myself to breathe to keep myself from coming before her. There’s no way that can happen. She has to come first.
Two weeks. That's what this is. Two weeks of manufacturing reasons to be difficult because it was easier than the alternative. And now she's here, trembling and mine. Maybe this is against every sensible instinct either of us has, but I want to take my time like it means something. To show her how good we can be together.
Because it does. I know that now. I've probably known it for a while, and I need her to see that too.
"Okay?" I managed.
"Don't stop." She pushes back against me. "Don't stop."
So I don't.
I brace one arm beside her head and slide my other hand around her front, find her clit, and start slow circles. She makes a sound, and she immediately swallows. I feel her whole body clench around me.
Twenty feet away, the instructor is telling someone to breathe through discomfort.
I start to move, every motion deliberate to pull another sob from her lips. Her head drops forward. She's biting her lip so hard I'm surprised she's not bleeding, and every time I roll myhips she has to start the whole battle over again trying not to moan out my name, and thank God… failing at it.
I could do this forever. The sound of her trying not to make a sound. The way her whole body is fighting itself right now because of me.
"Still think running was the logical choice?" I say into her ear.
She can't answer. That's its own kind of answer.
"Next time you pack up and disappear—" I press deeper, feel her shudder—"do it slower. Give me time to stop you."
"Luka." It's barely a sound.
"I'm serious." I am. My voice has gone rough and I don't have the bandwidth to smooth it out. "Don't do that again. Not without telling me you’re safe."
She nods, as if she finally understands what she put me through this morning. Not knowing if she was safe, or that we were okay, dismantled me in a way neither of us knew it could.
She turns her head slightly, cheek pressed to the wall. Her eyes are closed. She's trembling.
I work her harder. She braces against the wall, takes it, and pushes back for more. I feel her start to unravel—the small sounds she can't swallow, the way her legs are shaking. I keep circling her clit, tight and slow. She's close. I can feel it everywhere, her body gripping me tighter, pulling me deeper, as if she doesn't want to let go.
"Come, Nattie," I say.
Then she comes apart. Quiet as she can manage, which isn't very quiet—her whole body shakes, and she presses her forearm against her mouth, and still can't fully muffle the sound that escapes. She clenches around me so tightly I lose what's left of my control completely. Two more strokes and I'm done. I bury myself in her and come with my teeth against her shoulder, one hand braced against the wall, the other still pressed to her front.
We stay there.
Her forehead pressed against the wall. My forehead against the back of her neck.
Both of us breathing like we just survived something.
