Her hands move over me, pushing my top up and off, her fingers dragging across my skin in a way that makes my stomach tighten. I pause for a second. Her cheeks flushed, her lips parted, her eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them, but steady, locked on mine like she’s right here with me in this moment. And fuck, that does something to me.
"Fuck, Rory, you just know exactly what to do to drive me wild" she says, breathless.
"You don’t have to do anything to drive me wild Frey, just exist." I lift her hips slightly to remove her jeans and underwear. She looks so fucking perfect grinding on me wearing just the bracelet I got her. Fuck I am a lucky man.
I remove my tracksuit bottoms and boxers and my dick springs up, throbbing. Freya lowers herself down and before I’m even inside her, I can feel her wet heat on the tip of my cock.
"Rory, I don’t want anyone else, ever. I only want you."
Sweet Jesus. The words send electricity through every nerve ending in my body. Her saying those words while the tip of my cock hovers at her entrance is enough to send me over the fucking edge.
"Good Frey, because you're mine forever." And with that, I pull her hips down, burying myself inside her as she lets out a scream. I cover her mouth and pause, laughing slightly, aware that Theo is upstairs in bed.
"Shhhh I say" whispered.
"I can’t help it, your cock feels so fucking good inside me."
"You do it then baby, you take control. fuck me"
Her eyes turn darker still as she starts grinding on my cock. Backwards. Forwards Up. Down. Round in delicious circles. Her fingers curl into my shoulders as she presses closer, her body moving with mine in a way that feels instinctive, natural, like we’ve always known how to find each other like this. Our hands are roaming each other’s bodies, our kisses deep and breathless. I can feel the sensation building inside of me with every grind, every movement. The heat is building low in my stomach and I can feel myself spiraling out of control.
"Come inside me Rory" she breathlessly whispers and fuck, it does me in. Electric pulses through me as I throb and explode inside her.
"Holy shit." I groan, my hands tightening on her arse.
"Fuckkkk. Rory." Freya whimpers, her body tensing up and clenching around me. And when everything finally tips, when that tension gives and we fall through it together, it doesn’t feel like losing control. It feels like letting go into something safe.
I exhale slowly against her skin, my arms wrapping around her as she settles against me, her breathing uneven, her body still shuddering against mine.
For a moment, neither of us says anything. There’s just the sound of our breathing slowing down.
I press a slow kiss into her hair, my hand moving gently along her back.
“This…” I murmur breathless. “This is us now.”
She shifts slightly, tilting her head up to look at me, her expression softer than I’ve ever seen it. “Yeah,” she says. “It is.”
And as I hold her there, not rushing to move, I know that this isn’t something fleeting. This connection isn’t something we’ll lose the second we stop. This is something we chose. And something we’ll keep choosing. Every single day.
Epilogue
Rory
6 months later
There’s a very specific kind of chaos that comes with moving day, and it turns out it doesn’t matter how organised you think you are beforehand, how many lists you make, how many boxes you label, how many times you tell yourself you’ve got it under control, it still ends up looking exactly like this. Boxes everywhere. Shoes abandoned in places they definitely shouldn’t be. Half-drunk mugs of tea forgotten on windowsills. Someone shouting about something they’ve lost that was in their hand five seconds ago. And in the middle of it all, Theo and Isla, both attempting to carry a box that is very clearly too big for either of them, their arms stretched too far, their steps completely out of sync.
“I’ve got it,” Theo insists, his arms wrapped tightly around one side, his face set with the kind of determination that makes it impossible to argue with him.
“You don’t,” Isla argues, gripping the other side, her voice sharp but not unkind. “You’re going to drop it.”
“I’m not!”
“You are!”
“I’m not!”
“Just carry it together,” I say, stepping past them with a smaller box tucked under my arm, watching as the bigger one tilts dangerously.
