Chapter 17 #2
His grin flashed, wicked, before he lowered his head.
The first slow lick tore a moan from my throat.
The second made my hands fist in the sheets.
By the third, I was writhing, thighs trembling against his shoulders.
He pinned them wide with strong hands, holding me open while he devoured me—long, deliberate strokes of his tongue, then fast flicks against my clit that had me seeing stars behind my closed eyelids.
When he slid two fingers inside me, curling them just right, I cried out, back bowing off the bed.
“That’s it,” he rasped against me, the vibration sending another shockwave through my core. “Let me hear you, baby.”
I couldn’t have stayed quiet if I tried.
He worked me mercilessly, tongue and fingers in perfect sync, until pleasure coiled so tight I thought I’d shatter.
When he sucked my clit into his mouth and pressed hard with those curled fingers, I did—coming apart with his name on my lips, pulsing around him, thighs clamping around his head while the orgasm rolled through me in endless waves.
He didn’t stop until the last tremor left my body, until I was limp and gasping and reaching for him with shaky hands.
Levi rose up over me, shoving his shorts down and kicking them off. The sight of him—thick, hard, flushed dark with want—made my mouth water. I wrapped my fingers around him, stroking once, twice, thumb sweeping over the bead of moisture at the tip. He hissed, hips jerking.
“Amelia—” It came out strangled.
“I need you inside me,” I whispered. “Now, Levi. Please.”
He didn’t make me ask again.
He pushed my knees higher, wider, lining himself up. The blunt head of him nudged my entrance and we both stilled for a heartbeat, eyes locked. This wasn’t just sex. This was the moment we stopped running.
Then he sank into me—slow, relentless, stretching me open inch by inch until he was seated to the hilt and we were both shaking. The fullness was exquisite, almost too much, and I clenched around him involuntarily.
“Fuck,” he groaned, forehead dropping to mine. “You feel—Christ, you feel like heaven.”
He started to move, long, deep strokes that dragged over every sensitive spot inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, urging him deeper. Harder. The yacht rocked beneath us, matching the rhythm he set—steady, powerful, the way he did everything.
Sweat slicked our skin. His chest brushed mine with every thrust, the friction on my nipples making me gasp. I raked my nails down his back, hard enough to leave marks, and he growled his approval, snapping his hips faster.
“Look at me,” he demanded, voice ragged.
I forced my eyes open. His gaze burned into mine, fierce and tender and completely unguarded.
“I love you,” he said on a thrust that buried him so deep I felt it in my soul. “Love you so fucking much.”
The words unraveled me. Pleasure crashed over me again, sharper this time, my body clamping down on his as I came a second time, crying out against his mouth. He followed right after, hips stuttering, spilling inside me with a broken groan that sounded like my name and surrender all at once.
We stayed locked together, breathing hard, hearts hammering against each other. He pressed soft kisses to my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth, like he couldn’t stop tasting me, even now.
In that moment, the world was quiet, except for us.
I traced the line of his jaw, the stubble rasping under my fingertips. “We’re not temporary anymore,” I whispered.
He turned his face into my palm, lips brushing my skin. “Never were. Not for me.”
I ended up sprawled half on top of him, my cheek pressed to his chest again. His skin was damp, his heartbeat a wild staccato slowly easing back toward normal.
“If this is what ‘emotionally compromised’ looks like,” I said eventually, “I’m not complaining.”
He huffed out a laugh, the sound rumbling under my ear. “I’d apologize for being unprofessional,” he said, “but that ship sailed a long time ago.”
“The ship is under us,” I pointed out.
“Smartass.”
He tilted my chin up with two fingers, forcing me to look at him. There was a softness in his expression I’d never seen in full daylight before. A vulnerability he hadn’t been able to afford when our meetings were squeezed between patrols and intel briefings.
“You okay?” he asked. Not about the sex. About all of it.
“Define okay,” I said, echoing him from last night.
His mouth quirked. “Not hyperventilating. Minimal urge to throw up.”
“In that case …” I considered. “I’m okay. Slightly wrecked. Questioning all my life choices. But okay.”
His thumb stroked along my jaw. “We can go slow,” he said quietly. “With this. With … everything. You don’t owe me some instant happily-ever-after just because we finally got our heads out of our asses long enough to say we love each other.”
I studied him.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” I said.
“Promise?” he asked, half teasing, half something else.
“Don’t make me say it again,” I warned.
“I like hearing it,” he said.
Of course, he did.
“Then behave,” I said. “Or I’ll go back to hating you.”
He grinned, and the sight of it did something treacherous to my chest. “No, you won’t,” he said. “You’re too honest for that.”
Maybe, I was.
Honest enough to admit that we were a mess. That the timing sucked. That my career was tied to a story in a house full of men whose last name he shared. That I was already bending my own rules because of him.
Honest enough to admit I’d do it again.
I shifted, propping myself up on one elbow so I could see his face fully.
“You know this complicates everything,” I said.
“With Dominion Hall?” he asked.
“With all of it,” I said. “My reporting. Your work. Your family. The enemies circling this place like sharks. Loving you doesn’t magically make any of that simpler.”
“No,” he agreed. “It doesn’t.”
His hand slid into my hair, fingers curling at the nape of my neck, thumb stroking a slow line that sent a shiver down my spine.
“But it makes one thing very simple,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“I’m not letting you go again.”
My throat tightened.
“Good,” I said, leaning down to kiss him once, quickly, grounding us both.