Chapter Nineteen
Lawliss
Taking Eddie deeper fills me with a warmth and pride I can’t quite put into words. The way his focus is entirely on me, like I’m the most precious jewel in the world, makes something inside me bloom. That feeling drives me, and I push him in deeper, earning a low grunt. No one has ever looked at me like this before. Not Derrick, not anyone. For once, I let myself believe it—believe that I’m enough.
“Ah, fuck,” he breathes, his voice rough with pleasure. His fingers gather my hair, pulling it back to keep my face in full view, using the strands to guide the pace.
“Beautiful… Yeah… Just like that,” he says, breathless between ragged inhales. His hips start to move, slow at first, testing. I take him in deeper, and when he brushes the back of my throat, I choke slightly but don’t stop, pressing forward instead. He brushes the back of my throat and it isn’t shame or fear that follows. It’s resolve. I press forward, meeting his movements, letting him see there’s no hesitation in me. I’ve never cared about anyone seeing me this exposed before, but with Eddie, I don’t care. There’s a power in the way he reacts to me, a power I didn’t know I craved.
I know giving into this attraction with Eddie this time means we’re going to label our relationship. he’ll be my partner or boyfriend but I don’t care. I know I told myself I wouldn’t do anything for love again, but suddenly, with Eddie, it feels safe to let my walls down.
Deciding to give myself to someone again is a risk I swore I wouldn’t take again but with Eddie, I don’t see myself falling apart. He’s been my anchor for years, steady and unshakable, and I know in my heart he’d never hurt me—at least not intentionally.
I twirl my tongue, pushing him closer to the edge, and just as he’s about to lose control, he pulls out abruptly.
“I would have swallowed,” I sulk, pouting up at him.He chuckles, low and warm. His hand brushes my cheek as he pulls me onto my side. “We didn’t talk about that. Turn over,” he says, his voice firm as he pulls me into position.
I shift onto the bed, lying on my side, facing the west wall and the headboard. He moves beside me, our legs tangling together, skin against skin, both of us completely bare. My hand drifts down, grabbing his cock and wrapping my hands around his full length. The weight of him in my palm sends a thrill through me.
“I love how your cock gets hard in my hands,” I tell him, my voice teasing but laced with heat.
A deep, guttural grunt escapes him; unspoken needs demand release.
“Uh-huh,” he mutters, his fingers slipping between my thighs, deliberate and confident. He slides one inside, his touch making me shiver, then leans in to capture my mouth just as he adds another finger. His kiss is hungry, swallowing my moans like they belong to him.
I use my left hand to stroke him, slow and steady, feeling him twitch under my touch.
“Fuck… fuck,” he groans against my mouth. “I want to bury my cock inside your pussy.”
“Tonight is for you,” I whisper. “Fuck me any way you want.”
His fingers curl, hitting that perfect spot he’s already mapped out. I squeeze my eyes shut as pleasure washes over me in waves, stars dancing behind my lids.
Before I can bring him to the edge with my hand, he shifts, pulling me closer. His cock presses against my entrance as he lines himself up.
The anticipation feels like more than just this fleeting point in time. It’s every wall I’ve built, every fear I’ve clung to, waiting to be torn down. And with Eddie, I want them gone. Every last one. He slips inside slowly, filling me inch by inch. The sound he makes sends a shiver down my spine.
Adjusting his position, he grips my hip and starts moving his hips.
“I love how your pussy feels when I slide in,” he breathes, his words rough, hungry.
“I’m going to make you come so hard,” he growls, pulling my legs over his shoulders. His hips move faster, deliberate, every thrust claiming me in a way that makes my head spin. The pressure builds, hot and consuming, until it’s impossible to tell where I end and he begins.
We’ve had sex before, but this feels different. With Derrick, it was always just bodies. Mechanic, distant. But with Eddie… every movement feels like he’s speaking to me without words, asking me to trust him, to let go. And for the first time in years, I want to. It’s raw, overwhelming, like the first time all over again, like we’re tearing down every wall between us. Like a fresh start.
It’s not just physical. It’s deeper. Every thrust feels like a promise he doesn’t need to say out loud. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe again that this might be what love feels like. Eddie might break me, but right now, I don’t have the energy or the will to care.
He shifts, both my legs spread wider, his strong arms wrapping around my knees to keep me steady. He holds me like I might shatter, and the moment changes. His movements are slow and deliberate, and I realize instantly we’re no longer fucking. This is something else.
With each deliberate thrust, his gaze never leaves mine. His hands, firm yet reverent, hold me as if I’m something fragile he’s afraid to break. The heat in his eyes softens, and for the first time, I feel seen not as a conquest, but as a woman he treasures.
“Come for me, Empress,” he whispers, his voice rough but tender, and I’m gone. Right now, I’m not just Lawliss; I’m his Empress again. Like royalty. Like someone worthy of being treasured. That’s what he does to me.
He thrusts again, and I come undone, my body shaking as waves crash over me. He follows soon after, his grip tightening around me, then stills, his chest heaving as he lies against me. Neither of us says a word as we try to catch our breath.
The silence doesn’t feel empty. It feels full. Full of everything I want to say but can’t. Thank you. Don’t let me go. I’m yours.
“Is it too late to lecture you on the birds and the bees?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement.
I chuckle, rolling my eyes. “If I wanted you with a rubber on, I would’ve pointed it out.”
Pushing him off me, I stretch before he shifts to the pillow, opening his arms for me. I join him without hesitation, snuggling against his chest.
“You do realize we haven’t used protection either time we’ve had sex, right?” he says, his voice careful, as if bracing for my reaction.
I smirk, tilting my head to look up at him. “Should I be worried you’re going to infect me with something?” I fake a gasp, and he groans, running his hand through my hair before pressing a kiss to it.
“I’m clean, Lynx. I can show you my medical report,” he says, completely serious, and I burst out laughing.
“I’m just kidding. I know. For some reason, I felt like you wouldn’t do that,” I say softly, then add, “Anyway, it’s not like I can have a baby, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
The mood shifts slightly, heavier, but I try to brush past it. Eddie’s hand strokes my back in slow, comforting circles as I sigh into him.
“I don’t think I’m the issue, though,” I continue. “I was cleared. But I never got pregnant with Derrick’s baby, despite being married, so…”
“You accepted it was your fault,” he finishes for me, his tone careful, and I nod.
“Did he make you feel like it was your fault?” he asks, and we both know exactly who he is.
I shake my head. “He never did. That’s why I never suspected he was cheating. I was scared it would be a big issue, but he made it seem like he was okay with it.”
I swallow hard, my voice dropping to a murmur. “I guess he wasn’t.”
A lump forms in my throat, but I push it down, unwilling to let the weight of the past drag us down tonight. “Let’s go to sleep,” I say softly, not wanting to spoil the mood any further.
Eddie doesn’t press. He just nods, wrapping his arms around me tightly. After a few moments, when he thinks I’m asleep, he whispers, “I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy, even if it means destroying the whole world in the process.”
His lips brush my hair in a soft kiss, and then he falls silent, his breathing evening out as he drifts off to sleep.
For the first time in a long time, I feel safe. Not just in this house, but in him. Maybe that’s what scares me most of all.
∞∞∞
I wake up first to find Eddie still sound asleep. My hand moves on its own, caressing his face, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips. He looks so peaceful, so unguarded. He doesn’t even stir not a twitch. The steady rise and fall of his chest lulls me, and for few seconds, I just watch him.
I can’t remember the last time I felt this calm lying next to someone. Not that there have been many people like that in my life. I could count them on one hand—my sisters, a few best friends. If I include Eddie and Derrick, they’d be the only ones, and even then, it’s different.
I used to have such a crush on Eddie. Back then, I believed that if he’d stuck around, I’d have married him, or maybe not. Who knows? But one thing I’m sure of is this: I like how unguarded he looks right now, like he trusts me completely. Even in his sleep, he lets himself be vulnerable with me.
My hand drifts down to his arm, brushing over the firm muscles. There’s always been this quiet strength about him, like he was built to hold everything together, no matter what life throws his way. And right now, I’m glad he can let it all go, even if it’s just for a little while.
I know there’s so much about him I don’t know. Things he hasn’t told me yet. But if we’re going to do this, I have to learn how to trust again.
I shift closer and press a soft kiss to his forehead. His warmth grounds me, settling the storm that’s always lingering in my chest. Maybe, just maybe, I’ve found a place where I can finally just… be.
Carefully, I slip out of bed and head to his closet. In my rush to get here last night—my apartment soaked from the plumbing disaster—I didn’t bring anything with me but the clothes on my back.
I pull one of his oversized comfy T-shirt from the closet and slip it on. It smells like him, minty and warm, and it makes me feel safe.
Walking out of the bedroom, I move as quietly as I can, not wanting to wake him. The apartment is still and quiet, and for a moment, I just stand in the kitchen, unsure of what to do with myself.
Then I remember. Eddie has a sweet tooth and loves chocolate tea. He used to ramble about it during our late-night conversation like it was the best thing in the world. His words had stuck with me for some reason, and now it feels like the perfect thing to make.
I search through his cabinets, trying to find cocoa powder, milk, sugar, and anything else I might need to throw together breakfast. Not that I’d call myself a good cook. I finally find the ingredients, all arranged in an irritatingly organized manner. My place, a near replica of this one, is in chaos like me, but Eddie’s apartment feels composed. For some strange reason, it makes me smile.
The process feels soothing as I busy myself, measuring out the ingredients and setting the milk on the stove to heat slowly.