Chapter 50 Murphy
MURPHY
Murphy didn’t let go of her hand as he led her down the short hall toward his bedroom. Her overnight bag swung from his shoulder, but it was the way she clung to him, like she didn’t want to break whatever spell they’d wrapped themselves in, that made his chest ache.
She’d let him back in. She’d told him she loved him.
They got into bed, and the feel of her body pressed into his had never felt quite so good. A comfortable silence engulfed them as he just existed next to her. This was what he had been craving. Knowing she was here and she was his was everything.
“I could get used to this,” he said as he tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Me too,” she said as she traced her hands down the ridged plane of his abs.
But then she stilled his hands, rolling him onto his back with surprising determination. Her hair fell forward as she straddled him, her palms pressed against his chest. “My turn,” she said, voice shaking but sure.
And she gave everything. Every kiss, every stroke of her hands, every whispered word was full of the love she’d tried so hard to hide. It broke something open inside him.
She bent her head and licked his shaft, long and slow, before she took the head into her mouth and sucked as she swirled her tongue around it. Then she got to work with her hand and her mouth.
Murphy slipped his hand into her hair as his cock hit the back of her throat.
“Hillary,” he rasped, gripping her hair, overwhelmed. “You’re killing me.”
Slowly, she kissed her way back up his chest.
“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m so sorry.”
He stilled her face in his hands. “Don’t you dare be sorry. Just love me.”
And then there were no more words, only heat and motion and the raw urgency of two people who’d finally stopped running.
She clung to him, nails digging into his back, body arching to meet his as he moved inside her with steady thrusts.
He held her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world, because she was.
Their release came tangled in each other’s arms, her cry muffled against his throat, and he groaned her name like a prayer. But even when the tremors faded, they didn’t let go. They couldn’t.
She kept kissing him, softer now, almost desperate. He pressed his forehead to hers, catching his breath, brushing her hair back from her damp face.
“I love you too,” he murmured.
She cupped his face with trembling hands, kissing him like she could pour her heart straight into his mouth.
Murphy tugged the covers up around them, pulling Hillary snug against his chest. Finn stirred once in his bed across the room, gave a sleepy little sigh, and was quiet again.
The condo settled into silence, no noise but the faint hum of the city beyond the windows and the slowing rhythm of their breaths.
Hillary pressed her face into Murphy’s shoulder, still warm from everything they’d just shared, and let her eyes close. His arm stayed around her, steady and strong, his thumb brushing idly against her arm like he needed the reassurance of her being there.
He couldn’t help but watch her as she drifted off to sleep. Things had shifted between them. They were going to give this a real go. After everything they’d been through in the past year, it was like a dream come true.
Murphy kissed the top of her head, whispering so softly as she slept. “Love you.”
And then, with Finn snoring and the two of them wrapped up in each other, he drifted off right alongside her.