Chapter 14 #2
The words hang between us, and I see the exact moment she realises what she’s said—the way her eyes widen, breath catching.
“I... I mean...”
“Say it again,” I breathe, the need in my chest almost painful. “The part about falling in love with me—because I need to hear it, need to believe it’s not just something I imagined.”
Her eyes meet mine. That same softness is there—unguarded, hopeful, a little scared.
“What?” she asks, though she knows exactly what.
“Say it again. The part about falling in love with me.”
She hesitates for only a second this time. “I’m falling in love with you.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding, and it feels like something inside me finally clicks into place—like I’ve been walking around missing a piece I didn’t know I needed until now.
“Good,” I murmur, dragging my fingers up the curve of her spine. “Because I’m already there. Completely, stupidly in love with you.”
When I kiss her this time, it’s different. Slower. Deeper. Less about heat and more about gravity—the kind that pulls you in and makes it impossible to walk away.
She sighs into my mouth, melting into me, arms winding around my neck. I shift us, easing her onto her back on the couch. She giggles as she lands, breath hitching when I press my hips against hers.
“I love you too,” she whispers against my lips, and I swear my heart actually stumbles before kicking back into gear. “Even if you are Batman’s kinky cousin.”
I bark out a laugh. “Especially because I’m Batman’s kinky cousin.”
She grins, then gasps when I roll my hips against hers—slow, deliberate. Her hands tug at my shirt, and I help her peel it off, tossing it somewhere behind me. Her fingers trace the tattoos on my chest, pausing over the one near my ribs.
“You’ve got way too many secrets inked into your skin,” she murmurs.
“Only the good kind,” I promise, lowering my mouth to the side of her neck. Her pulse flutters against my lips.
She arches beneath me, thighs parting to cradle my hips. “Jake…”
I pull back just far enough to meet her gaze.
“I’m not wearing underwear. Does that answer your question?”
“Fuck,” I groan, grinding against her. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Then die like a man and fuck me already.”
I growl low in my chest, and she laughs—until I slide my hand between us and run my fingers through the slick heat between her thighs.
Her laughter cuts off on a gasp. “Jake.”
“You’re already so wet for me,” I murmur, teasing her clit with a slow flick of my thumb. “You’ve been like this all night, haven’t you? Pretending to care about that god-awful movie while your cunt was throbbing for me.”
“Maybe,” she breathes. “I’m very good at multitasking.”
“Not tonight, you’re not.” I drag two fingers through her folds, watching her hips jerk. “Tonight, you’re only going to focus on how fucking good I make you feel.”
She moans when I slide one thick finger inside her, then another. “Jake…”
“I love how you clasp around my fingers,” I mutter, plunging in and out. “How you squeeze like your body already knows it’s mine. That you’re mine.”
She’s writhing under me now, eyes fluttering shut, mouth parted in a silent plea.
I kiss her again while my hand works her body. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”
“Like I’m going to lose my mind.”
“You will,” I promise, biting gently at her bottom lip. “I’m going to ruin you in the best fucking way.”
Sliding down her body, I hook her legs over my shoulders and press my mouth to her soaked pussy. She gasps—aragged, helpless sound that makes my cock throb.
I lick her slowly at first, savouring every twitch, every moan, every time she claws at the cushions and curses my name like it’s a sin.
Then I wrap one hand around her thigh and the other around her throat. Not tight—just enough for her to feel it. Enough to make her arch like a goddamn prayer.
“Jake—oh fuck?—”
“That’s it, darl,” I growl into her. “You like that? My hand on your throat, my tongue on your cunt?”
She nods frantically, already teetering on the edge.
“You look so pretty like this. Dripping for me. Shaking for me. Mine.”
I don’t stop until she comes—hard, loud, messy—clenching around nothing, hips bucking like she’s forgotten which way is up. Her body goes limp beneath me, chest heaving.
I pull back, licking my lips, and crawl up her body. “You still breathing?”
“Barely,” she whispers.
“Good.” I kiss her again. “Because I’m not done.”
I shove my jeans down, her eyes going wide when she sees how hard I am.
“Jesus.”
“Too much for you?”
She gives a wicked, breathless grin. “I’ll manage.”
I sink into her slowly, both of us groaning at the stretch. Her legs wrap around me instantly, nails digging into my back.
“Fuck, you feel good. So warm. So tight. Perfect, Stella.”
“So do you, Jake. Now move,” she orders.
I chuckle but do as I’m told—long, deep thrusts that make the couch creak and her voice break. She clutches at me like she’s drowning, and I don’t slow until she says the words again.
“I love you,” she gasps, and I almost lose it right there.
I wrap my hand around her throat again, holding her gaze as I fuck her deeper. “Say it again.”
“I love you, Jake.”
That’s the moment everything shifts.
I kiss her like I’m never going to stop. Hold her like I never want to let go. And when I come, it’s with a groan that sounds more like surrender than victory.
Afterwards, I don’t pull away. I just wrap her in my arms, resting my cheek against hers while we catch our breath—tangled, spent, and a little bit ruined.
“I meant it,” I whisper against her skin. “Every word.”
“I know,” she murmurs. “Me too.”
The TV is still playing. The wine glasses are empty. And in the quiet glow of our little love-den of chaos and movie-night crumbs, I realise something real.
For the first time in my life, the future doesn’t feel scary.
With Stella, it feels like home. Not the place. Not the couch, or the TV, or the faint scent of caramel in the air. Her. She’s the home I didn’t think I’d ever find.