Chapter 59
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Alec
She’s sprawled across the bed, flushed and breathless, chest rising and falling with each shaky inhale. Her thighs are still parted, glistening with the mess I made between them, and she’s watching me like she wants more—like I haven’t even scratched the surface of what she needs.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and crawl up over her, kissing her belly, her ribs, her throat.
“You good?” I murmur against her skin, even though I already know the answer.
She nods, pupils blown wide, lips parted. “More. Need more.”
Fuck.
The word burns straight through me, settling low and hot.
“Need you inside me,” she whispers—no, begs—voice rough and throaty, full of craving that hits me like a punch. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
I sit back on my knees, breath thick in my lungs as I strip my shirt off in one smooth pull. Her gaze drops instantly—hungry, transfixed—tracking every inch of bare skin I reveal. Her hands twitch, like she’s fighting the urge to reach for me, to trace the lines of muscle and ink and want.
But she doesn’t. Not yet.
I make her wait.
I rise from the bed slowly, standing at the edge, towering over her as she watches me like she’s about to devour me whole.
The button of my jeans comes undone with a satisfying pop. Her breath catches. I hold her gaze as I slide the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet room, then shove the denim past my hips. They pool around my ankles with a dull, heavy thud.
Her eyes drop to the bulge in my boxer briefs, her tongue peeking out to wet her bottom lip like it’s instinct.
The air shifts when I hook my thumbs in the waistband and pause.
Teasing her.
Testing her.
And she’s absolutely begging with her eyes now.
I watch her as I push them down, letting my cock spring free—hard, thick, veined, already aching for her.
She lets out a soft, involuntary sound. Her eyes lock on my length, lips parting. Then, slowly, she drags her tongue over her bottom lip like she’s starving.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “You’re killing me with those dreamy eyes.”
She doesn’t answer. She sits up slowly, eyes locked on my cock, and then starts crawling toward me—hungry, focused, like she already knows exactly what she wants and how she’s going to take it.
Her fingers wrap around the base, warm and sure, and I hiss through my teeth. “Fuck, baby . . .”
She lifts her eyes to meet mine, a smirk curling on her lips—and then she leans in, tongue flicking the head, tasting the bead of precum that’s gathered there.
My hips jerk forward involuntarily.
“You’re so hard,” she whispers, like she’s in awe of it.
“Yeah?” I rasp, voice rough and low. “That’s what you do to me.”
She licks again, this time slower—flattening her tongue along the underside, tracing the thick vein from base to tip like she’s worshiping it. My hands fist in the sheets at my sides as she opens her mouth and finally takes me in, hot and wet and perfect.
“Fucking hell . . .” I groan, head falling back. “You have no idea what that mouth does to me.”
She hums around me, taking more of me into her mouth, tongue swirling as she sucks, cheeks hollowing with a rhythm that has my knees buckling.
Her hands slide lower, palms warm as they cradle my balls, gently massaging them while her mouth works my cock like she was made for this. Like she was made for me.
“Fuck—” I groan, deep and wrecked, trying to keep my hips from thrusting forward. “You’re gonna make me come, baby . . .”
I glance down and nearly lose it right there. Her eyes—wide, wet, locked on mine—lips stretched around my cock like I’m the only thing she’s ever wanted. That look? That mouth? That desperate heat between us?
It unravels something I didn’t know I was holding together.
And fuck me, she can have it all.
But not yet.
I pull back gently, cupping her face, guiding her off with a grunt that sounds too much like begging.
“Need to be inside you,” I rasp. “Now.”
I reach for my wallet inside my pants, fingers fumbling because everything in me is too strung out. My blood’s pounding in my ears, all of it rushing straight to where I’m thick, hard, and throbbing for her.
I tear the foil, roll the condom down over my length with a tight hiss. She watches, still panting, her legs falling open like an invitation I’ve been waiting my whole damn life to accept.
I move between them, bracing one hand on the bed, the other gripping my cock as I guide myself to her entrance.
She’s soaked—so fucking ready—and I press in slow, thick inch by inch, sinking into her heat with a groan that tears through my chest.
And it’s instant.
Fuck.
I feel it everywhere.
This isn’t just good—it’s right.
It’s her.
The way her body pulls me in like it remembers me, like it missed me. Like I belong there. Her thighs wrap around my waist, and I bottom out, breath catching in my throat as I still inside her. Buried to the hilt.
She exhales my name like it’s a prayer. As if I’m safe—this between us is safe. For a second, I can’t move. Can’t think. Because this—this—isn’t just sex.
It’s home.
It’s the place I come back to after every storm.
She’s the one thing I never knew how to ask for but somehow got anyway. The one person I’d destroy myself to protect. She’s the reason I’ve been working to become a better version of myself. The reason I’m trying to find who I want to be not only for her, but for me—and the family we could become.
And now I’m inside her like I’ve been here a thousand times before in dreams I didn’t dare to act on before.
She reaches for me, fingertips brushing my jaw, and I lower my mouth to hers as I start to move—slow, deep thrusts that make her gasp, her body tightening around me like she doesn’t want to let me go.
And I’m not going anywhere.
I start to move—slow, grinding thrusts that are more like a promise than a rhythm.
Not hard.
Not fast.
Just deep.
Deep enough, she feels me. Remembers me. Takes me.
Every slow, thick push is meant to sink into her bones. Leave something behind. Make her mine in a way no one else ever will be.
I drag my cock almost all the way out, watching her lips part on a gasp—and then I push back in, slow as sin, until I’m buried to the hilt again, her body clenching around me like it never wants to let go.
“Feel that?” I rasp against her neck. “That’s me. Every inch. Right where I belong.”
She whimpers, hips arching to meet me, her nails digging into my back as I set the pace—not to fuck her, but to claim her.
I’m surrendering to her. Branding her. Becoming hers.
Every breath is a prayer. Every thrust is a promise between our souls.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
Most of all, hers.
Her hands grip my shoulders, pulling me closer, like she feels it too—this tether stretching between us, pulled tight by every stroke of my cock inside her. I kiss her—open-mouthed, messy, aching—and she moans into my mouth, her body already trembling again.
“You feel so fucking perfect,” I groan, dragging my lips down her throat. “Like you were made for me. Like you’ve always been mine.”
And fuck, someone help me, because I believe it.
Because with every roll of my hips, every tight pull of her heat around me, I don’t just feel lust—I feel home.
She’s not just under me.
She’s everything.
And I’m going to make sure she never forgets what it feels like to have me this deep. This slow. This wrecked.
Not tonight.
Not ever.
Her legs tighten around my hips, heels pressing into the small of my back as I keep moving inside her—unhurried, deep, anchoring us both to this moment.
She’s so tight around me, so warm, soaked, and trembling with every slow thrust. I watch her face, the way her lashes flutter, her mouth open and gasping with each deep slide. Her body meets mine like it’s instinct, like she’s not just taking me—she’s welcoming me in.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Every time I sink into her, it gets harder to hold back. To breathe. To be anything but this.
She’s panting now, eyes wild, hands clawing at my back as I hit that spot that makes her cry out.
“Alec—” she gasps, broken and breathless. “Please . . .”
I still inside her, thick and throbbing and buried to the hilt. Her inner walls flutter around me like she’s trying to pull me deeper, like she’s already coming, or right there—so fucking close it hurts.
I drop my forehead to hers. “Tell me, baby.”
“Don’t stop,” she begs, voice shaking. “Please don’t stop. I’m so close—I need to come. I need it.”
Fuck.
She sounds like she’s falling apart in my arms. Like I’m the only thing that can make her whole again.
I shift, rolling my hips just right, slow but harder, hitting that same perfect place inside her that makes her body jerk. She claws at me, her mouth open on a silent cry.
“That’s it,” I groan. “Let me feel you come. Right here, wrapped around me. So tight, fuck—”
She breaks.
Her body clenches down on me with a loud cry, her inner muscles squeezing me so hard it rips a curse straight out of my throat. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she shatters beneath me, panting my name like it’s the only word she remembers.
And that’s all it takes.
That’s fucking it.
I come with a growl pressed into her throat, my hips stuttering as I pour myself into the condom, every nerve ending unraveling like I’m being pulled apart from the inside.
But it’s not just physical.
It’s her.
It’s everything.
It’s too much.
Not enough.
I’m still buried inside her, still trying to catch my breath, but the words rise before I can stop them. Before I can make them wait. Before I can remind myself we promised not to say it yet. Not like this.
But I can’t lie.
Not when she’s looking at me like I’m already hers.
Not when I’m inside her and she’s still trembling around me and I know—I fucking know—there’s never going to be anyone else.
“I love you,” I tell her, looking straight into her eyes.
“I fucking love you so much,” I repeat.
The words are hoarse, wrecked, and the most authentic thing I’ve ever said in my entire life.
Her eyes widen, her breath catching like maybe she feels it too—maybe she’s been holding it back like I have.
“I know we said we’d wait,” I breathe, voice fraying as the words leave me, “but—fuck, I can’t.”
My chest tightens, everything in me cracked wide open. “I can’t pretend this is anything less than everything. That you’re not it. That I don’t feel like I just came home for the first time in my life and didn’t even know I’d been lost until you opened the door.”
She’s staring up at me, eyes glassy, lips parted like she feels it too.
My hand trembles as I brush the hair from her face, fingers soft, still buried inside her, still trying to memorize the way she feels wrapped around me. Like I could stay here forever and still not get enough.
“You’re it for me,” I whisper. “Not just this. Not just tonight. The whole damn thing. You’re the reason my heart beats differently now.”
Her lashes flutter, and I lean in, resting my forehead against hers, breath warm between us.
“I don’t care how long it takes for you to fall,” I tell her, voice shaking. “You take your time. You guard your heart. I’ll be right here. I’m yours, Mara.”
I want her in ways that burn straight through my skin and settle into bone. I want her laughs and her silences and every guarded corner of her soul she’s still afraid to give.
I don’t just want her love.
I want her trust.
Her forever.
All of her.