Chapter 30 #2
“I’m trying,” I whispered into his hair. It wasn’t enough, but it was the truest thing I had.
“I know,” he said, breath warm against my collarbone. He didn’t say it with disappointment or accusation, just quiet belief. The kind that burned.
I rolled him beneath me slowly, giving him all the time in the world to stop me if he wanted. He didn’t. His hands came up to my waist, steadying me, grounding me. Every inch I lowered felt like choosing him again and again, rewriting the part of me that had flinched and run for years.
“I don’t want to be scared anymore,” I breathed.
His thumb stroked my side. “Then don’t be. Not with me.”
Damn, he made it sound so possible.
I kissed him, deeper than I ever had, letting every fear and apology and promise bleed into the space between us. Tru kissed me back like he’d been waiting for this version of me, the one who wasn’t hiding or pulling away.
When we finally stilled, he cupped my jaw and held my gaze, memorizing it.
“You won’t lose me,” Tru said softly. “Not for this. Not for anything.”
His certainty scared the hell out of me and saved me in the same breath.
So I sank into him—into us—and let the last of my fear melt in the heat of everything we were finally brave enough to touch.
Tru’s breath hitched when I shifted my weight, bracing one hand beside his head. His eyes flicked to my mouth, then down my body, then back up again—slow, deliberate, cataloging every inch of me he finally had permission to touch.
Heat rolled through me.
Tru pulled me down again before I could say anything, his mouth finding mine with a need that went straight through me. His legs wrapped around my hips, drawing me closer, urging me on with every inch of his body.
“Dare,” he whispered against my lips, and something in me snapped. Not in a breaking way—in a surrendering way. The part of me that kept hesitating finally realized there was no safer place in the world than right here, with him.
I dragged my knuckles down the line of his ribs, loving the way he arched into it, the way his breath stuttered. His hands slid up my back, under my shirt, fingers splayed wide needing to touch all of me at once. God, the way he touched—it undid me. Soft and sure and wanting.
I kissed down his throat, feeling his pulse jump beneath my mouth. His fingers threaded through my hair, tugging just enough to drag a sound out of me that would’ve humiliated me if it weren’t for the way he reacted—hips lifting, breath catching, heart racing against my chest.
Tru tugged at my shirt, pulling it over my head with a laugh.
“I want to make this right,” I murmured against his throat, lips brushing his pulse. “I want to stop running.”
“You’re not running now,” Tru whispered, his voice wrecked and low. His nails grazed my spine and every muscle in my body tightened.
“I’m trying,” I breathed. “Just—tell me what you want.”
He exhaled shakily, tipping his hips up into mine in a way that made my whole brain short-circuit.
“You,” he said.
Just that. One word. A prayer. A dare.
Every touch lit me up, pushed me further over that invisible line I’d been terrified to cross. I kissed him again, deeper, harder, until he was gasping into my mouth, until there was nothing left between us except heat and breath and everything we’d been too scared to say.
Tru’s breath hitched when I tugged at his pants, but he allowed me to drag them down his thighs.
“Take yours off,” he begged in a whisper.
As soon as we were both bare, I covered him with my body again.
His mouth opened under mine, desperate, greedy, meeting me with a hunger that lit every nerve in me on fire.
He tugged me closer, thighs bracketing my hips, pulling me down until we were nothing but skin and desire.
My breath broke against his lips, half-moan, half-apology.
“Tru…” I choked out. “Tell me if I’m going too fast.”
“You’re not,” he gasped, dragging me even closer. “You’re finally right here.”
I let my hands roam, let my body speak, let every inch of closeness erase another measure of fear.
Tru arched into me, trusting me, meeting me, pulling me deeper and deeper into him until there was no space left for hesitation.
His dick rubbed against mine creating the most delicious friction.
Tru’s wet cockhead dragged along my shaft, leaving a sticky trail that made the glide easier.
Heat pooled low in my stomach. His breath hitched. My pulse stuttered.
This—whatever it was, whatever we were—had always been inevitable.
I moved against him, a slow, grinding pressure that made him gasp into my mouth, made his fingers curl in my hair. My name fell from his lips like he couldn’t hold it in.
“Dare—”
And hearing that, the way he said it, the way he needed, snapped something clean in half inside of me. All the bravery I’d been faking all these years? It finally felt real.
I kissed down his neck, over his chest, tasting his heartbeat with every slow, frantic breath. His back arched off the mattress, hands fisting the sheets, and I felt him unravel under me.
I wanted to take him apart.
I wanted to learn him.
I wanted to earn him.
But mostly, I wanted to love him.
I pressed one last kiss to his mouth before trailing my lips down his body. His breath caught, fingers sliding into my hair, gentle at first… then tighter when I nipped lightly at the curve beneath his ribs.
He was shaking. Or maybe that was me.
His thighs parted when I shifted lower, as if his body trusted me more than I’d ever trusted myself. I settled between them, palms running up the insides of his legs, feeling every shiver, every twitch of anticipation.
“Dare…” Tru’s voice broke, barely a sound. Like he wasn’t sure if he should pull me closer or push me back.
I swallowed hard and looked up at him. God, he was beautiful—flushed, breathless, eyes blown wide with want and fear and something that felt like hope.
“I want this,” I told him. My voice didn’t shake, but everything inside me did. “I want you. Let me… let me take care of you.”
His chest rose in one sharp inhale. “You don’t have to,” he whispered.
“I know.” And damn, I meant it. “But I want to.”
His hands cupped my jaw, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. “Dare… I don’t want you doing this just because you’re scared to lose me.”
I huffed a shaky laugh. “I’m always scared to lose you.”
He blinked, stunned by my honesty, and something in him softened—opened.
“But that’s not why I’m doing this,” I added, leaning into his touch. My lips grazed the inside of his thigh and he sucked in a breath so sharp it made my pulse throb. “I’m choosing you.”
Tru’s head tipped back against the pillow. His legs trembled against my shoulders, not in fear but in need.
“You sure?” he managed, his fingers threading tighter in my hair.
I kissed the tender skin just above his knee, working my way inward with teasing slowness.
“Yeah,” I murmured. “Let me learn you.”
His breath stuttered.
“Let me earn you,” I breathed over his sensitive skin.
His back arched, a broken sound slipping from his throat.
“Let me love you,” I finished, voice low, shaking, everything I’d never said poured into those four words.
Tru looked down at me, eyes glossy, lips parted, chest heaving, and for a moment the whole world shrank to the space between his hands on my face and my mouth hovering just where he needed me.
“Okay,” he whispered, surrender and trust and hunger all tangled into one shaky word. “Okay… Dare.”
And when I leaned in, when he tightened his grip and pulled me closer, we both knew—
This wasn’t about fear anymore. This was about finally crossing the line we’d drawn years ago…
And not wanting to go back.
My breath ghosted over his wet tip, just the tease of warm air, because I wanted to feel the way his whole body jolted. The way his fingers clutched at the sheets. The way he whispered my name like it hurt.
I started slow, testing him the way you test the edge of a flame, not sure how close you can get without getting burned.
One small taste of him and heat curled low in my gut, addictive and dizzying.
Fuck, he did something to me. His scent, the way he trembled, the helpless little gasp he tried and failed to swallow—it all went straight to my head.
I let my lips close around him, gentle at first, waiting for his reaction.
I didn’t have to wait long.
Tru made a strangled sound—a wild, startled, unpretty noise that would’ve embarrassed the hell out of him if he’d had a single functioning brain cell left. Something between a gasp and a yowl, like he had no idea what to do with the sensation.
I felt his thighs tighten around my shoulders. Felt him try to wriggle away and closer at the same time.
And yeah… I couldn’t stop my grin. Not even with my mouth busy.
His hand found the back of my head, not pushing, just holding, needing the anchor. I gave him more. Taking my time, nothing rushed. The kind of attention he deserved.
Tru’s breath kept breaking around my name, and the sound of it—raw, unguarded, meant only for me—lit me up from the inside out.
And I knew, with the same certainty as gravity that I’d never forget the way he sounded in that moment. Or the way it felt to be the one unraveling him.
I wasn’t graceful about it. Not even close.
My teeth grazed him once or twice, earning these breathless, half-whining sounds from him. I choked on my own enthusiasm at one point, eyes watering until everything got blurry. There was snot, there were tears, there was drool—an absolute disaster of a performance by every technical metric.
But I didn’t stop. Couldn’t have if I tried.
I didn’t even get a rhythm going before Tru’s breath hitched—once, twice—and his whole body jolted like I’d plugged him into a socket.
“Dare—” he warned, already gone.
Seconds. That’s all it took. One shaky pull of my mouth, one helpless groan from him, and he was spilling over the edge before I even registered what I’d done right.
When it happened, when I realized what I’d actually pulled off, a ridiculous burst of pride flared through me.
Not because I’d been perfect. But because I had been the one to take him there.
I swallowed clumsily, coughing once, eyes stinging.
But I stayed with him through it—hands on his hips, mouth on him, taking every twitch and gasp like they were mine to keep.
Because Tru had come undone for me, mess and all, and nothing in my life had ever made me feel more unstoppable.
He collapsed back on the pillows, flushed and ruined.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, breathless and embarrassingly triumphant.
“Fast,” I said, grinning like an idiot.
He covered his eyes with one arm. “Shut up.”
I crawled up beside him, heart banging around like it had no idea what to do with itself. “If it makes you feel any better…” I muttered, jerking my chin toward the rumpled sheets near my hip, “I came faster.”
Tru’s eyes flicked down to see the evidence already cooling on the fabric.
A slow, wicked smile tugged at his mouth. “Seriously?”
“Don’t,” I warned, face burning. “I panicked. And you—” My voice cracked. “You were looking at me like that, making those noises. What was I supposed to do? Hold it together?”
He bit his lip, pleased in a way that made my stomach flip.
“Guess we’re even, then,” he murmured.
I groaned and buried my face in his shoulder, hoping the mattress would swallow me whole. But Tru just curled an arm around me, pulling me in like my humiliation was something he wanted to keep.
“What did it taste like?” he asked, quiet but hungry for the truth.
I lifted my head and took him in—flushed cheeks, hair a mess, lips still kiss-swollen. He looked wrecked in the best way. Wrecked from me. And for one dizzy second, I couldn’t believe he was actually mine.
“See for yourself,” I murmured.
I leaned in and kissed him, sliding my tongue into his mouth, letting him taste every bit of what he’d given to me. He grabbed my jaw and kissed me back harder, pulling a low sound out of me that I didn’t mean to make.
When I finally broke away, a thin breath stretched between us. I traced the edge of his mouth with my thumb, because I couldn’t not touch him.
“I’m glad you saved that for me,” I said, softer than I meant, but honest all the way down. “It’s more than I deserve.”
His lashes dipped. His fingers curled into my hip. “Don’t say that,” he whispered. “You’re the reason I ever wanted any of this.”
That hit me somewhere low, somewhere stupidly soft. I bent down, brushing my mouth over the corner of his, tasting the salt on his skin, the trust he kept handing me.
“Tru,” I murmured, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”
He smiled—small and unfairly sweet.
“Then die warm.”
I felt it then, someone turning on a light in my ribs—pain, adoration, hunger, all tangled together. I pulled him closer, pressing our bare bodies into the sweat-warm sheets, into each other, into the impossible truth we kept trying not to name.
For one perfect, breathless moment, everything else—fear, future, fallout—fell away.