I want to never have to fight again, to never have to wonder if I’m going to make it.
“I want it,” I whisper.
He groans, deep and satisfied, his hips snapping forward.
“You fucking have it.”
His thumb slides between us, pressing against thataching bundle of nerves, stroking in perfect, practiced circles.
I shatter around him, pleasure crashing through me, his cock still driving deep as I come hard, gripping him like I’ll never let go.
Alder groans, thrusting faster, chasing his own pleasure. “You’re mine now, Gemma.”
My vision flickers, and black spots dance around the edges. The world tilts, and a strange dizziness twists in my chest as the stars above swirl and spiral. The moon dims for a heartbeat, its light faltering, sputtering, then blazes again.
I blink hard, trying to ground myself in Alder—in his hands gripping me, his body moving against mine, anchoring me in his promises. But the world around us continues to spin, and I am untethered, out of sync, floating between pleasure and something I can’t quite name.
My gaze falls to the tarot card, its faint glow pulsing in time with the punishing rhythm of Alder’s thrusts. The lovers depicted on the card shift, their forms blurring, melting into one another, becoming something whole, something eternal. A shimmering energy radiates from them, hypnotic and alive, and I can feel it breaking open within me.
My skin tingles, static crawling beneath the surface, and I dig my fingers deeper into his back, desperate for something solid, something real. But the dock beneath us seems to tilt, dissolving into the same surreal haze that’s creeping into my mind.
Alder’s rhythm stutters, his grip tightening, and with a low, guttural groan, he spills into me, his bodyshuddering against mine.
For a moment, everything halts.
The only sounds are the ragged echoes of our breaths and the gentle lap of water against the shore.
My body hums, my limbs heavy, every nerve throbbing from the aftershocks of him.
Alder’s forehead presses against mine, his breath warm and uneven, and when he finally pulls back, his hands are still on me, smoothing down my thighs, gripping my waist, like he’s reluctant to let go.
“You won’t run from me again.” His voice is quieter now, but it’s no less commanding. “Not tonight. Not ever.”
Acceptance twists deep in my chest.
For the first time, I don’t want to run.
I don’t want to face the reality waiting for me beyond this dock—the bank account that’s running dry, the career I have to rebuild, the months ahead filled with uncertainty and exhaustion—the cold, sharp edges of a life that doesn’t want me back.
With Alder, there’s none of that.
There’s certainty. There’s security. There’s money.
And right now, those are worth more than any promise of love ever could be.
I swallow hard, adjusting my dress as he fastens his belt, the lingering warmth of him still inside me, still on my skin.
Alder stretches out on the dock beside me. His chest rises and falls, his eyes half-lidded as he looks at me.
“Lie with me,” he murmurs. “Just for a minute.”
I settle beside him, and the moment I do, his arm drapes around me, pulling me in like I never left.
“We’ll only stay for a minute,” he says again, but hisvoice is thick, lazy, satisfied.
And I know we’ll stay as long as he wants us to.
I breathe out slowly, sinking against him, my cheek pressed to his chest.
