Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Marley
On our way to the nearest surface, we leave a trail of clothing.
My shoes. His tie. My bra. His shirt. Little pieces of ourselves we’ve been waiting to shed to feel as close as possible.
In a way, it feels symbolic of us. Stripping everything down to the center, until we’re nothing but skin and truth and everything we were too afraid to say out loud until now.
His hands haven’t left my body. They’re exploring, touching every single part of me he can get to. His mouth is on my lips, my jaw, my neck, hiking me up against the wall as he grinds himself between my spread legs, wrapped around him.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he rasps, his voice vibrating against my skin.
With the state I’m in, I have no words. Only sounds and gasps, my hands that forcefully pull him to me, demanding more, begging to feel closer.
I’m so wet, so close, that I can feel that restless energy crawling up me, needing to spring free. As soon as he thrusts up into me, that restlessness becomes desperate. My mouth is on his, my crossed ankles pressing into his lower back.
“Theo,” I breathe, barely able to get the words out.
He hums against my mouth, grinding against the spot between my legs that’s already soaked through my panties.
When his lips drag down to my shoulder, teeth catching on my collarbone, I manage to breathe out, “Please. Now.”
Hiking me up on his hips again, he carries me to his dining room table.
As he sets me down, I brace my hands behind me, watching as he steps out of his briefs, fisting his cock in one hand and pushing past the lace of my panties, fingers dipping into my wetness, with his other.
“Are you on birth control? Clear?” he asks, jerking himself off as he watches me.
I nod. “Yes, and yes. Please, just fuck me. Now.”
My head falls back, lost in the way he touches me.
Those long fingers feel like a straight dose of euphoria when they’re buried deep inside me, strumming me like he’s chasing every last bit of control from my body.
I can feel myself growing closer, this spool in my pelvis winding tight and tighter, nearly ready to snap free.
Grabbing his corded forearm, I still his movement.
“I’m so close …” I breathe.
He leans over me, his hand that was just inside my pussy now curling into my hair at the base of my skull, tugging until my neck is completely exposed to him.
His mouth grazes my throat, breath hot and unsteady, like he’s barely holding on too.
The pressure builds, everything tightening, pulsing.
These last few inches feel like miles that need to be crossed.
So, I frantically reach between us, brushing away his hand on his dick, wrapping my fingers around what I can get of him, jerking him off until he’s hovering between my legs, swiping the head of his dick along my pussy, ready to enter.
Looking down, he seems torn between staring at my face as I jerk him off, or the point of contact of his dick in my hand.
He drops his forehead to mine. “I want to feel you fall apart, love.”
Then he presses me down with one hand against the table as he enters me, all restraint gone as he drives deep.
For a moment, he stays still, buried to the hilt, brow drawn tight as he fights to keep from falling apart.
“Fuck,” he mutters, more to himself than me, as he pulls out, one painfully slow inch at a time.
I squirm against him, trying to sink him deep into me again. He sees my movement, how far gone I am for him, and he pauses, looking at me in awe like he’s taking a mental snapshot of this to put in his memory bank forever.
Watching me writhe, on the edge, he asks, “Do you want to come?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Then beg for it.”
My body trembles as the words tumble out. “Please, Theo. I need your cock. I need to come. I’m so fucking close.”
As soon as my last word is said, he rams into me. Hard. Again and again, stealing the very breath from my chest. Until I’m bursting with this feeling that’s brighter than the sun, and he’s groaning expletives, both of us seeing heaven on earth right there in his dining room.
Breathing heavy, he leans over my body, both of us slick with a thin layer of sweat, and he kisses me.
It’s tender, so opposite of the feral energy moments before.
Pulling back, he takes me in. My perfect bun, now a perfect mess.
Completely naked, face flushed. His thumb sweeps across my cheekbone. “I still can’t believe how lucky I am.”
There are no words. Only a smile on my face and light, airy happiness that I feel head to toes, from the inside out.
From the table, he scoops me up in one fluid motion, carrying me into the shower of his master bathroom.
The space is bigger than my bedroom back home—the bathroom itself the size of my entire apartment.
It’s open concept, with no glass, no doors, just cool stone floors and walls, recessed lighting, and a rainfall shower head that spills straight from the ceiling.
The whole setup looks more like a luxury spa than anything I’ve ever seen.
Masculine, minimal, and something I didn’t even know bathrooms could be.
If you’d told me four months ago that I’d be dating my grumpy, rich boss, and that he’d just had me on his dining room table before carrying me into a shower that’s quite literally the entire room—I would’ve laughed and assumed you were certifiably insane.
Now look at me.
My hands are clasped around his neck as he sets me on my feet, my body sliding down the front of his.
He turns to start the ceiling-mounted shower, and I watch him—long legs thick and strong like tree trunks, tapering into a torso built like someone who’s never missed a leg day.
Or an arm day. Or an anything day. And it shows.
As we wait for the water to warm, he steps behind me and begins taking out my bun.
Each bobby pin clinks against the stone shelf as he works carefully, unwinding the twist of my hair, finally slipping the ponytail holder free.
Then he laces his fingers through mine and gently pulls me beneath the stream cascading from above.
The water is perfectly hot. His arms wrap around me, solid and sure, as it pours over us.
I look up at him, resting my chin on his chest, and blinking against the pour of the water.
“You look happy.” I observe, watching how his eyes are crinkled with happiness right around the corners as he looks down at me. He’s not even full-on smiling, but he just looks different—content, maybe.
“I am,” he replies. “I can’t remember a time I’ve ever felt this way before.”
“Do you think you’ll ever regret it? Taking this giant risk on someone like me?”
“I’ve already run the math, Marley. And you’re still the answer I always come back to,” he says.
“All I want is you. I want to see your fucking perfect smile when you’re amused by something idiotic I’ve done.
I want to be around you like you’re the sun on a cold day.
Or hear your voice when you say my name.
All I want is to see you, take care of you, and know without a doubt that you’re mine.
And I’d risk everything as long as it meant being with you. ”
I want to reply, to convey how deeply my feelings run for him, and how that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. But I can’t, because my voice feels caught in my throat, realizing that no one has ever cared about me the way Theo does.
He studies me and can clearly see the emotion written all over my face. There’s no hiding from him, when he already knows me so well. He scratches at his dark stubble for a moment, debating.
“Do you remember earlier today, when I said I thought I loved you?” he asks quietly.
I nod, a small smile on my lips as I think about it.
“Well, I was wrong,” he continues. “I don’t think. I know. I know I love you, Mar. Plain and simple.”
With my ear to his chest, I can hear the racing pound of his heart.
I lift my head just enough to meet his eyes. “I love you too, Theo.” The words spill out, no hesitation, because I mean them in every possible way.
He and I should never work. We come from two different worlds, two different upbringings, and completely different ways of moving through life.
And yet, at the center of all that difference, there’s still us.
Two pieces of the same heart, pulled together like magnets, even when we tried to fight it.
In the end, it wasn’t logic that brought us here.
It was something quieter. Something that always knew.
No matter what happens between us, he’s helped me realize one very important thing: when someone truly cares, they show up.
Love isn’t a puzzle to solve or a prize to earn.
It’s steady. Certain. A truth that exists without conditions or second-guessing.
It doesn’t make you question your worth or wonder if you’re enough.
When love is real, you don’t have to chase it. It stays.
And Theo Prescott?
He’s not going anywhere.