Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
ELENA
“Can you give me another one, Sweetness?”
I was still recovering from the first orgasm that rocketed through my system, blazing fire through my veins.
“No,” I wheezed. “Need you inside me.”
“I’ll give you anything you need, Elena.” Chase kissed the top of my head as his hands roamed my body reverently, lovingly. “Anything.”
I slipped my hands from around his neck, and this time, he didn’t stop me. I gripped the tank top that was bunched up around my chest, brought it over my head, and tossed it to the floor. Chase’s hands moved up to grip my breasts, far more than the handful they once were.
“God, these tits are amazing. Might just have to keep you pregnant.”
I choked on a laugh and felt him smile against my head. I brought my hands to his, squeezing his so that he squeezed me. A long, low moan vibrated through me.
I spun around, breaking our connection to work at the fly of his jeans. I needed his pants off, and fast. I peeked up to see Chase’s hands on the top of his head and him looking down at me as I worked frantically to get his jeans and underwear off. “A little help here?”
“Nah, you got it.”
I snorted.
“Shit, Lane, you know it makes me hard when you do that.”
“You were already hard.”
“Yeah, but I am actively trying to restrain myself from blowing my load all over your hot little hands.”
“Do the baseball player trick. You’ll be fine.”
He chuckled. “You know all my secrets.”
I sank to my knees, dragging his clothes down with me, and peered up at him. “And you know mine.”
When my knees hit the floor, his cock sprang free, slapping against the soft cotton of his shirt.
He reached behind his head and whipped the shirt off in one swift movement, exposing the rigid, sculpted muscles of his abdomen.
I reached out and traced a fingertip along the grooves between each defined rectus abdominis segment, starting at the top.
By the time I reached the bottom, my finger ghosted along the line of coarse hair leading down to the dark, tamed patch at the base of his beautiful cock.
Thick, engorged, and impossibly hard—it pulsed like an exposed artery, every throb a delicious reminder of arousal-induced vasodilation.
“Your dick is a medical marvel. Absolutely perfect.”
“Yeah, that’s great, Doc,” Chase said through stuttered breaths. “Spit on it.”
I was practically drooling already, staring at his flawless body. I tilted my head, but I didn’t hesitate. I leaned forward, let it fall—wet and messy—right onto the head of his cock.
Both of our gazes were fixed on the path that hot pool of saliva took as it coated his perfect length.
My control snapped. I gripped his hips, darting my tongue out to lick up my own spit, opposite the path it had taken—base to tip—before swirling around the head and flicking his frenulum.
His hips jerked, and I pulled back.
“That little strip right there?” I asked, dragging my fingertip along it. “The frenulum. Densely innervated. Very responsive.”
He growled something unintelligible and arched into my hand.
I slid it down to grip him at the base then dove down, taking him to the back of my throat in one smooth motion.
He groaned and threw his head back as I hollowed my cheeks, sucking hard and gliding my tongue along the underside as I pulled back.
“That’s it, baby. Take my cock.”
I popped off, glaring up at him. “My cock.”
His eyes softened as he ran a gentle hand through the hair at my temple.
“You’re right, Sweetness. It’s yours. I’m yours.”
With a defiant nod, I started to take him in my mouth again—but he stopped me.
“Wait, Elena.” He reached down and pulled me to standing by my biceps. “I don’t wanna come in your mouth, baby.”
I should’ve felt deprived of that power, that control—but the look on his face had me softening instantly.
“Let me make love to you,” he whispered against my lips. Then he kissed me. Sweet and sincere. Hungry and desperate. Reverent and loving. Chase shifted, trying to spin us so he could lie back, let me lead. Let me take control.
But this time, I stopped him.
“No. I want you—” I sucked in a deep, cleansing breath and swallowed hard. I met his eyes, hoping he could read what was written all over my face.
Trust.
Hope.
Love.
“I need you on top.”
Chase’s eyes turned glassy. His throat bobbed. He nodded. “Anything you need. You know that.”
Slowly, gently, he helped me back onto the bed. Not flat—he knew better. He stacked pillows behind me until I was propped up at an angle, legs curled to the side, belly resting comfortably.
Then he knelt beside me, hand gliding over my thigh with a reverence that made my chest ache. “You okay?”
I nodded.
“Need your words, Sweetness.”
“I’m okay. I promise.” I cupped his cheek. “I trust you.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, and a lone tear slid free. I caught it with my thumb then leaned in, brushing my lips to his. “Make love to me, Chase.”
He didn’t rush.
He kissed me like he was trying to memorize every second—sweet and deep, slow and grounding. His hand moved between us, guiding himself to my entrance. He didn’t push in, not yet. He looked at me one more time.
I gave the faintest nod, and he moved.
The stretch was intense—my body already swollen, already sensitive—but it wasn’t too much. It wasn’t pain. It was presence. It was him. And it was everything.
When he was fully inside me, he stilled. Our foreheads touched.
“Breathe with me,” he murmured.
I did.
He began to move, slow and reverent, one hand braced beside my head, the other cradling my hip, grounding me with every gentle thrust. His eyes never left mine.
“You feel like home,” he said, voice shaking.
“Don’t stop.”
He didn’t.
Every stroke was a vow. Every kiss a promise. He worshipped me—not in spite of my scars, but because of them. His hand skimmed over the curve of my belly, fingers splaying wide as if to shield both of us at once.
“You’re safe,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. I’m not letting go.”
My orgasm built slowly, not a crash but a rising tide of emotion and sensation that broke me open and stitched me back together in the same breath.
I cried out his name, and he followed with a deep groan, forehead pressed to mine as he let go, hips stuttering as he spilled inside me—bare and unguarded.
The awareness hit me in a hot, overwhelming wave.
No condom. No barrier. Just Chase, giving me all of him, trusting me with it.
And I’d never felt more claimed—or more loved.
We stayed tangled together, breathless and wrecked, and when he finally pulled back to look at me, there was nothing but love in his eyes.
“I love you, Elena.”
I reached up and touched his face, my thumb brushing over the place where his tear had been.
“I know,” I said, voice thick. “I love you, too.”