Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Wren
I’ve been hit by a truck is the first thought that registers in my mind when I force my eyes open. I’m so glad today is Sunday. The mere idea of getting out of bed makes my joints hurt.
Days like this don’t happen as often. Having celiac disease means my body is either working with or against me, and today, it’s at war with itself. I blame the mixture of emotional distress and physical stimulation from yesterday. I don’t recall how I got into bed, nor much of getting home. When I cuddled into Theo’s arms in front of the fire, exhaustion swept over me, and I was out.
I hold it together long enough to take a shower. This small victory is something, and because of it, I’m rewarding myself with getting back into bed. The terms sloth, potato, and lazy float through my head when my body hits the mattress again. But I refuse to let it bother me. On days like this, it’s best I listen to my body and its needs. I’ve learned the hard way that if I push it, the pain will increase tenfold the following day.
My joints ache with a dull throb that spreads with each attempt to stretch. Each movement is stiff, and I think about all the days I’ve fought through this on my own. But today, in Theo’s home, it’s ... safer. Like, maybe I can just be. No need to pretend I’m fine when I’m not. And when he gently knocks, his voice softly calling my name, it’s like he’s here for me in a way I never knew I needed.
“Wren, are you up?” he asks, his words tender, as if he understands this uncomfort even though he’s never felt it.
I’ve learned to live with it, but somehow, just seeing him, knowing he’s close, makes me feel a little lighter, a little less alone.
Theo and I had an eventful day yesterday, but that’s not the point. The last time we had a one-on-one conversation, he asked what I wanted, and my answer is the same. What will his response be though? Does he want what I do? Or will we forget we went down on one another and move on? How do you even move on from that?
Shit, I’m spiraling. Focus, Wren. One word at a time.
“Not for much longer,” I call out.
The door cracks open, and he leans against the frame with an amused grin. “Did you just wake up?”
“Yes, and I’m going back to bed. Everything hurts,” I grumble.
He offers me a knee-weakening smile and approaches me. “Scoot over.”
With a playful huff, I roll over to the left side of the bed, and he gets comfortable next to me.
Reaching out, he brushes a strand of wet hair behind my ear and lets his knuckles linger on my cheek. “One of those days?”
I nod while sighing. “And I only blame you for thirty percent of it.”
“Only thirty?” he chuckles.
“Shocking, right?” I tease him.
“Do you remember Film and Lit class?” Theo asks, his voice a quiet murmur as he strokes a strand of hair away from my face.
I laugh softly. “You mean the class where I practically used you as my pillow every day?”
He grins, a little bashful. “Yeah, that one. You’d crash on my shoulder, and I’d sit there trying not to move because I didn’t want to wake you. I’d tell myself you needed the sleep more than I needed to feel my arm.”
I blink, surprised. “I never knew you did that. You always seemed so... nonchalant.”
“I loved knowing that, in some small way, I could be there for you.” He brushes his lips against my forehead, and I close my eyes, tears pricking at the corners. “And I still want to be, Wren. If you’ll let me.”
My chest tightens, a mix of relief and longing filling me. I reach up and take his hand in mine, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “You have no idea how much that means to me. And... I want that too. I want us to be that for each other.”
Theo studies me for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes softening into something else—something deeper, almost hesitant. He bites his lip, as if bracing himself, then finally murmurs, “There’s something I’ve kept to myself, Wren. Something that’s been there for so long it scares me.”
My heart stutters. “You don’t have to say anything?—”
He shakes his head, a faint smile on his lips as he brushes a thumb over my cheek. “No. I need to say it. I think I’ve always felt this... pull toward you, but I didn’t know if it was something you wanted. And after yesterday... Wren, I can’t pretend anymore.”
I’m trembling, my mind racing to process his words. “Pretend?” I murmur, a little breathless.
“Pretend that I don’t want more.” He traces my jaw and leans in, his breath mingling with mine.
We pause, his forehead resting against mine, the heat of his skin warming me, and the steady rhythm of his breathing filling my ears. Every inch of space between us buzzes with anticipation.
And then, gently, as if testing the water, he presses his lips against mine, soft and warm, sparking something deep inside me. I lose myself in the sensation—his hand, firm on my back and pulling me closer, as if he’s afraid I’ll slip away. I kiss him back, curling my hand into his hair, memorizing every second, every taste, as if this moment is ours and ours alone.
I hoped—dreamed—he would feel this way, but the probability seemed so far-fetched. He’s telling me he’s always had a semblance of affection for me, just like I’ve had for him.
My heart is pounding against my ribcage, and my mind is swimming. All this time, we had feelings for one another, and we were too afraid to speak the truth. This can’t be happening. This must be some kind of cruel joke.
“I want this, Wren,” he tells me with such certainty. “I want us , and I have for far too long. I know I don’t deserve?—”
“You,” I say as I shut my mind off.
He looks at me with a furrowed brow, and I realize I cut in at the wrong time.
“Yesterday, you asked me what I want. My answer is you, Theo. I want you, and I have since high school.”
“You don’t have to lie.”
“You and I both know I’m a horrible liar,” I say. “We felt the same way about one another all this time. It’s time we give ourselves a chance, don’t you think?”
“I do.” He presses his hand against my back and brings me closer. “I really, really do.”
Theo hovers his face above mine, he stares into my eyes, searching for something, his hand still on my face. For a split second, it’s like the whole world is suspended in the space between us.
And then, slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to mine, and everything falls perfectly into place.
The ache in my muscles vanishes when he touches me. I lose myself in his scent, passionate kisses, and desperate touches. The warmth of Theo’s body seeps into me as he holds me close, his fingers tracing patterns along my spine.
His fingers skim the base of my spine, and the sensation zips up through my ribs, leaving my skin humming in its wake. The aches and stiffness fade under his touch, as if he’s found a way to heal me without words.
He slips his hand beneath my shirt, and I shiver. “You’re amazing,” he whispers against my ear.
I press a kiss to his neck, tasting the faint hint of his cologne and the salt of his skin. “You make me feel like I don’t have to be strong all the time. I don’t have to pretend,” I murmur, running my hands up his chest.
He leans back to look at me, his eyes soft, tender, filled with a longing that takes my breath away. “You don’t. Not with me,” he says, and his lips find mine again, gentle but hungry, like he’s waited forever to have this moment.
I melt into him, my hands roaming over the muscles of his back, every ridge and curve, every part of him that’s become so familiar yet so new. He shifts, guiding me down onto the bed, and I know—with absolute certainty—that I am exactly where I’m meant to be.
“Don’t stop,” I plead while leaning back into him. “You feel too good.”
He moans when I crash my lips into his, and it fills me with satisfaction.
He moves his hand over my waist and lands on my backside, gripping and squeezing my ass as his tongue meets mine. I groan and work my hands up his shirt, eager to have his bare skin against my palms.
My breath catches as his abs flex beneath my palm, hard muscle shifting under soft skin. He’s immaculate, and I can't get enough—I need more. I can’t stop my hands from discovering his body, just as he gives into his own desire. He lifts the hem of my top and crawls his fingers up my back, stopping where the band of my bra should be—if I were wearing one.
His teeth meet my bottom lip, gently biting and pulling as he presses his fingertips into my back. “Look at you. Were you ready for me?”
“Yes,” I rasp as I wrap my leg around his, allowing me to rub my clit against his thigh. “I need you.”
He releases a deep growl, and my nipples harden. “We don’t have to do anything.”
I press my hand against his erection, and his eyes roll into the back of his head.
“You’re helping me feel better, and I want this. . . I want you.”
“You’re not well?—”
“This is helping.” The sound of our kissing echoes around the room. “Please, Theo.”
He runs his thumb slowly along my jaw, his eyes darkening as they trace every inch of my face. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that makes my pulse skip.
I’m acutely aware of every breath, every tiny movement, as he moves his hand from my cheek, trailing his thumb down the column of my neck, lingering at the hollow of my throat. The heat of his touch spreads through me, and I let out a shaky breath as his thumb grazes over my racing pulse.
“Tell me, Wren,” he murmurs, his lips a breath from mine. “What do you want right now?” He slides his hand lower, stopping just at the edge of my shirt, waiting for me to close the gap, to let him know I want this just as much.
The words leave my mouth before I can second-guess. “I want you, Theo. All of you.”
“I won’t make you beg.”
He doesn’t hesitate this time, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss that’s slow, almost agonizing in its intensity. Every slide of his mouth against mine sets me on fire, and I lean into him as he deepens the kiss. He slips his hands into my hair, tugging just enough to make me gasp, and he swallows the sound, trailing his lips to my jaw and down to the sensitive spot just below my ear.
“You taste incredible,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin.
He trails his fingers down my spine, leaving goose bumps in their wake as he pulls me closer, flush against him. Every inch of him is hard and unyielding, pressed against my body, making my skin hum with anticipation.
He rolls me onto my back, his body hovering above mine, the weight of him pressing me into the mattress. Caressing my thighs, he coaxes them apart and settles between them, his mouth claiming mine again, fiercer this time, as if he’s losing his last bit of restraint. “You’re all I can think about.”
His muscles shift as he moves, each kiss, each touch igniting me further. He dips his head to my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as his fingers finally, finally slip lower, inching closer to where I need him. I gasp, arching into his touch, and he lets out a low, satisfied groan.
His fingers drop into my panties at an agonizingly slow rate. “The sounds you make, how you kiss me, how your body reacts to my touch. You’re so ready for me,” he murmurs.
He strokes my clit, gentle at first, then with a rhythm that’s slow and relentless, building the pressure until I’m a trembling mess beneath him.
“I want to feel every part of you,” he growls, his voice rough, unsteady.
He moves his hands back to beneath my shirt, dragging his fingers along my bare skin with torturous slowness. His thumbs circle my waist, skimming just shy of the places I want him to touch most. I lean toward him, my breaths coming faster as he takes his time, mapping every inch of my skin, like he’s enjoying the anticipation.
“So responsive,” he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction. “You’re trembling, Wren.”
His hand moves higher, fingertips grazing the undersides of my breasts, and I shudder, gripping his shoulders as I try to press closer, desperate for more.
He presses two fingers against my clit and slides down to my entrance, then back up. The simple motion is enough to leave me withering.
“That’s it, baby girl.” He praises me as I tilt my hips closer to his fingers.
Everything is tingling: my legs, clit, core. A few glides, and I’m a puddle. I would go to hell and back to have his fingers, lips. . . cock.
“Theo,” I moan.
He tugs my shirt higher, his eyes tracing over my exposed skin as if he’s studying art. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathes.
I can barely think straight, my body burning under his gaze. “Don’t make me wait,” I whisper, my voice needy, almost pleading.
He chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to my collarbone. “Oh, I plan to take my time,” he murmurs against my skin. “I want to hear every sound you make, Wren. I want you to savor every second of this.” With a final kiss, he trails his lips down to my neck and licks my pulse point while dragging his finger up my slit. “You’re so wet.”
All I can do is nod. He’s stolen my words and any ability to formulate them.
“What do you want?” he asks.
My chest rises and falls as I gasp for air. The desire that builds trickles through my veins, and it’s not long before I’m begging for “More.”
“More?”
I nod, and he flashes me his flawless smile.
“How much more?” he asks.
I lean toward his lips and press my palm against his length. “This much more,” I rasp.
With a groan, he pulls his hand away from my core and pulls my shorts off. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Theo sits up and yanks down his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them to the floor. I toss my shorts across the room and am about to remove my shirt when he grabs my ankle and pulls me farther down the bed.
With a squeal, I smile against his mouth as he kisses me. The tip of his cock brushes over my entrance, and I move my hips against him. The visceral need to have him inside me is overwhelming.
“Just one second,” he whispers as he leans over to open the bedside table drawer.
In one smooth motion, he rips a condom wrapper open with his teeth. But before he can put it on, I do the unthinkable.
“Wait.” I place my hand over his to stop him. “You were just tested, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” he answers quietly, frozen.
I take in a long breath. “Can we do this without a condom?”
His eyes widen and flick between mine. “You’re not afraid?”
“I’m nervous,” I answer honestly. “But I’m not afraid.”
“I wouldn’t do anything to put you in harm’s way.”
And with a sweet grin, I murmur, “I know, Theo. I trust you.”
With a subtle nod, he drops the condom to the floor. He grips my hips, pulling me closer, and pauses, his breath catching as he positions himself.
He locks his eyes onto mine with an intensity that steals my breath. “This is what you want?”
I nod, barely able to speak, my mind spinning from the anticipation. “Yes... Please.”
He enters me slowly, inch by inch, his gaze holding mine, and every agonizing second of it is perfect. The heat, the fullness, the way he stretches me—it’s overwhelming.
I grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I lose myself.
“God, Wren,” he groans, his voice strained, his movements deliberate and measured, making sure I feel every inch. “So good... so perfect.”
I shiver as he begins to move, each thrust deep and unhurried, the rhythm almost maddening in its slowness.
He captures my lips again, swallowing my moans, his hands roaming over me, guiding me closer, deeper, until every thought, every sensation, is just him, filling me, consuming me completely.
“Oh my god?—”
Cutting me off with a rough kiss, he pulls on my lower lip before growling, “My name is the only one that should leave these lips. Understand?” I start to nod, but he shakes his head. “Words, Wren.”
“Yes,” I mutter.
“Yes, what?”
“I understand.”
“That’s my girl. Now, show me where that spot is.” He thrusts inside me, and my head arches back.
A sudden flame spreads through my body, and as he increases his momentum, I become a whimpering mess.
“Theo— Please— Fuck, right there!”
“Here?” he whispers before driving into my G-spot.
I cry out, and he smiles devilishly in response. “There it is.”
Gripping the underside of my thighs, he settles on his knees and holds me against him until he’s steady. My back is lifted off the mattress, and I can’t help but grind against him. It’s euphoric, and I never want it to stop.
“You have no idea how sexy you are.”
“Theo—”
When he hits the same spot, my head presses against the pillow, and he grins with a low hum. “Right here?”
“Yes!” I cry out as he hammers into me, bringing me to a cusp I haven’t been to before.
Every muscle in my body tightens, and my vision becomes spotty. I ball the sheets in my fists, tugging on them while this sensation rocks me.
“You’re so close, baby. Give in, give me everything you have,” Theo orders.
“Fuck!” My jaw hangs open as my muscles quake from the pleasure.
Holding me against him, he keeps himself positioned so he’s still pressing into my sensitive spot as I ride out this wave. This is nothing like when I touch myself. This orgasm is deep and bone rattling. I’m completely satisfied and dizzy.
As I gasp for air, Theo settles his chest against mine and slows his rhythm. “Are you okay?” he murmurs. This time, when I nod, he doesn’t tell me to speak. “Good, because I’m going to need you to come again.”