Between us, the last of our clothes disappear piece by piece. Fabric gathers carelessly on the mat and sand around us until there’s nothing left except skin and warmth and the quiet sound of each other breathing.
I lower her to the mat and follow, settling over her, not pressing my weight. Her arms come around me, her face tilting up. I kiss her again, deeper this time, and she exhales against my mouth, her body lifting into mine.
My mouth moves along her jaw, her throat, the space beneath her ear, feeling the quick beat of her pulse under my lips.
I take my time, slower than before. More deliberate. My hands and mouth follow the line of her, not rushed.
When I lift my head, she pulls me closer again, and I feel the warmth of her everywhere—her legs tangled with mine, her heartbeat fluttering beneath my hand, the way she fits against me like she was always meant to be here.
Her fingers slide into my hair before settling at the back of my neck. For a second, she just looks at me, her expression softer than I’m used to seeing from her.
“I’ve thought about this all day,” she whispers. “About tonight. About us.”
My thumb brushes along her waist. “Yeah?”
Her expression changes again, turning quieter. More serious.
“This makes it real, Dane.” Her fingers trace lightly along my jaw. “Not just the wedding.This. It makes me yours in every way.”
Something tightens hard in my chest at the way she says it.
“It does. Completely.”
I kiss her slow at first, then deeper when she melts against me.
Then my hand slides slowly between us, guiding my cock into her. Her breath catches, and her fingers tighten against my back.
“Ah.”
I stop, giving her a second. Giving myself one.
Then I move again, deeper this time, slow and controlled, letting her have time to adjust to every inch of me.
Her eyes stay locked on mine, her breathing turning uneven as her chest rises and falls in small, shaky waves. A soft sound slips from her throat when I settle deeper against her, her fingers tightening against my shoulders.
“Dane—”
I kiss her forehead, then the corner of her mouth. “You okay?”
She nods quickly, breath catching. “Yeah. Don’t stop.”
Charlotte meets me, her body finding the rhythm, adjusting in small, natural ways. She responds, opening to me, and I keep the pace steady even when everything in me wants to lose it.
Tonight isn’t about that.
I rest my forehead against hers. Her breath comes in soft, uneven pieces. Her hands move over my back, my shoulders, the back of my neck.
When I kiss her again, it’s deeper—but I don’t rush. I keep that same steady rhythm.
Her hand finds mine in the dark—the one wearing the ring—and she threads her fingers through mine, holding tight. I hold on too, and we move together like that.
Neither of us looks away. Not when her breathing starts to break, each inhale catching, each exhale slipping out of rhythm. Not when her head tips back, the sounds she makes softer now, unguarded. Not when she arches into me completely, giving everything without holding anything back.
I keep my eyes on her through all of it.
The way it moves across her face. The way each moment builds into the next. The way she comes back to me every time I say her name.
There’s a moment, right at the edge of it—something in her expression that settles deep in my chest. And I know I won’t forget it.
