His hands come up to my face before threading into my loose hair. He kisses me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he stops. But I’m not going anymore. Not again. I came here to find safety.A home of mine. And being here with Jett feels like the start of both. I gasp in his mouth as he tilts my head higher, plunging his tongue deeper and making me moan. He guides me backward slowly, until the backs of my knees hit the bed and I fall onto it, pulling him with me.
Our movements slow as the weight of what’s happening settles over us.
This isn’t like before. It isn’t frantic and careless. It isn’t full of anger. This feels like something we’ve both been holding on to for a very long time. The love we thought we lost but only buried deep inside us.
I feel his unsaid words and he swallows mine. Jett lifts my shirt over my head, painstakingly slow, until I’m beneath him in nothing but a lace bralette and thong. Those are peeled off me next, leaving me bare as he slips off his briefs. Our eyes meet as he lines himself up at my entrance, and even in the moonlight, I can see his unspoken question ofdo you want this?And the answer is yes.
I nod and pull him in for another kiss, and that’s the only permission Jett needs as he slips inside. I gasp at the stretch of him. Pausing, he lets me adjust to him before moving.
No words need to be said, they’re spoken in his movements.
The way he tries to memorize the new version of me, every move and sound I make. How he remembers the way I like to be touched by him. He’s trying to apologize without words. Trying to love me without saying it, because it’s too soon, but we both feel our connection fusing together with each gasp, each moan, and each thrust.
And when I come apart with his name on my lips, it isn’t sudden. It’s like a wave building steadily, rising and rising until it crashes over me from head to toe. Warm and overwhelming. And emotional in a way I wasn’t expecting.
I feel powerful.
Worshiped.
Loved.
And I don’t let myself think too long about that last feeling.
As I drift off to sleep in Jett’s arms, I feel more content than I have in a decade.
The condo is too quiet when we step through the door. Everything feels too sterile. The white furniture. Neutral decor. Spotless surfaces. I want so badly to run through the place and trash it all, but I would never.
Instead, I kick my heels off near the door and leave them in the foyer.That’ll show him.Rubbing my neck, I try to ease the tension sitting there as I wait for the explosion. The gala went on forever, and we stayed longer than we planned. I flashed too many fake smiles and laughed along to too many cheesy jokes.
I feel his eyes on me as I walk deeper into the condo toward the living room.
“You embarrassed me tonight,” he finally says, voice calm in a way I know isn’t really calm.
I glance over my shoulder. “I didn’t embarrass you.”
“You were flirting with him.”
I huff a humorless laugh. “It’s called talking, Elias.”
“Bullshit.”
I roll my eyes, which only pisses him off further, but I’m tired of being accused of flirting or cheating whenever I have a conversation with a man. I turn to walk toward the bedroom before tossing over my shoulder, “We were discussing real estate, not fucking.”
“Don’t walk away from me.”
I keep walking because I know this pattern. If I can get to the room and lock the door, he’ll cool off. But I barely make it four steps before his hand wraps around my wrist and yanks me backward so roughly I stumble.
Pain shoots through my wrist. “Let go.”
He does the opposite, grip tightening. “I said, don’t walk away from me.”
“I’m not doing this tonight.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to watch my fiancée be a whore tonight.”
“I was—”
“You were laughing with him. Smiling. I saw you touch his arm.”
