We stayed locked like that, breaths mingling, hearts pounding in sync, until the aftershocks faded. He didn't pull away immediately; instead, he kissed my temple, my eyelids, the corner of my mouth—soft, grounding touches that anchored me back to earth.
But he wasn't done. Not yet.
With a murmured "More," he eased out of me, both of us slick and sensitive, and flipped us so I straddled his hips. The shift made me gasp, his cock still half-hard against my thigh, but the look in his eyes—dark, insatiable—promised he intended to fix that. His hands spanned my waist, guiding me up as he satagainst the headboard, pulling me into his lap until I sank down onto him again, savoring the renewed stretch.
This position was different—deeper, more intimate, our faces inches apart, his gaze never leaving mine as I rocked against him. His hands roamed: one cupping my breast, pinching the nipple until I arched; the other gripping my ass, fingers kneading as he helped set the pace—long, languid rolls that ground my clit against his pelvis with every downward slide.
"You're so fucking beautiful like this," he said, voice husky, leaning in to capture my lower lip between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing it with his tongue.
I rode him steadily, building that heat again, my curls tumbling wild around my face as I tossed my head back, the blonde strands catching the light like a halo he couldn't resist fingering.
His mouth found my neck, sucking a mark there—possessive but tender—while his hips bucked up to meet mine, the slap of skin soft and rhythmic. I braced my hands on his shoulders, feeling the flex of muscle under my palms, and leaned down to kiss him, messy and deep, swallowing his moans as pleasure crested once more.
This time, it built faster, the angle hitting that spot inside me with every grind, his fingers finding my clit, rubbing in tight circles that made stars burst behind my eyes. "Kane," I gasped, breaking the kiss, my rhythm faltering as I chased the edge.
"Come for me," he urged, voice a low growl, his free hand tangling in my hair to pull my head back, exposing my throat for his teeth—nipping without breaking skin, a claim that sent me spiraling. I shattered around him, clenching hard, and he thrust up once, twice, spilling into me with a curse that dissolved into my name, his body shuddering beneath mine.
We collapsed together, tangled and spent, his arms wrapping around me like iron bands softened by exhaustion. He strokedmy back in lazy sweeps, lips pressing absent kisses to my shoulder, as if he couldn't stop touching me now that he'd started.
Time blurred.
Minutes or hours could have passed. I honestly didn’t know.
There was only sensation. Heat. Movement. The way his hands held me like something precious and his mouth claimed mine like something necessary.
The way his control slipped in flashes, revealing intensity underneath that made my pulse race.
The way he whispered my name against my skin like it mattered.
Like I mattered.
Afterward, the room fell quiet except for the sound of our breathing slowly evening out.
Kane lay half on top of me, his weight comforting rather than heavy, one arm braced beside my head while the other stayed wrapped around my waist.
Like he didn’t intend to let go yet.
This wasn’t casual.
This wasn’t recklessness.
Something fundamental had shifted between us.
He lifted his head slightly, studying my face.
“You all right, Manhattan?” he asked quietly.
The concern there surprised me.
I smiled faintly. “Yeah.”
More than all right.
Lighter.
Like something tight in my chest had finally loosened.
His thumb brushed my cheek, gentle.
