When she was stretched out on the mattress, she opened her arms and he came into her in one smooth glide. Need gripped at her inner walls, and she clung to her lover through every plunge of his cock until she was shaking and frantic.
He touched her like he was memorizing her, slow at first, then less controlled, his restraint slipping with every second that ticked by.
Her head dropped back as sensation arched her body.
His rough fingers brushed her chin. “Look at me.”
She opened her eyes and fixed her stare on his. With Church, there was no uncertainty. No guilt. Only a feeling that this was right.
She slid her fingers into his hair, anchoring them together as their lips connected and her pulse spiked higher and higher.
A broken sound slipped from her lips as he angled his body and nudged a spot that only he owned. Her grip tightened as she lost herself in the way he moved, the way he knew exactly what she needed without her saying a word.
“Grant!” Her voice fractured. Everything inside her coiled tighter, building, building—
With a rough cry, she came. The hard pounding of waves towed her under. His muscles locked around her, and he threw his head back and came in a long pump. The liquid heat of his cum inside her bare walls sent her tumbling through even more sensations.
She came back to herself slowly. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t move.
All she felt was the aftermath—warm and shaky and overwhelming in thebestway.
And underneath it…him.
He didn’t let her drift too far. He tethered her to him with tender kisses and the final spasms of his cock inside her.
When their gazes met, something new passed between them.
Something deeper than just this. And it sent another wave of heat through her chest instead of lower.
Their breaths seemed to sync until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. After so long, she didn’t feel alone or afraid.
She felt safe with Church.
When they rolled apart, she tucked herself against his side, body still humming.
Who would have thought it would be Church who made her feel again?
She patted his chest. “I’m going to get a drink. Want any water?”
He smiled at her. “No thanks.”
Zee slipped on his shirt and tiptoed out of the bedroom. Her body felt loose, like a knot inside her had finally unraveled after years of being wound too tight.
She padded toward the kitchenette and grabbed a bottle of water. Leaning against the counter, she took a sip.
A small smile of disbelief tugged at her lips. How had she gone from constant fear and running and never feeling safe, to standing here in Church’s space, wearing his shirt, feeling…happy?
The thought lingered as she finished her drink. When she swung back toward the living room, she saw it.
The package sitting exactly where they’d left it.
Her smile faded and her chest tightened as familiar unease crept back in.
The sight of it stirred the place in the pit of her gut that had been unsettled since the day she learned Matt was killed in action.
The safety she’d felt moments ago frayed at the edges.
Because whatever was inside that package…she was going to have to face it.
