26. Chapter 26 #2
My hand clamps around his throat, thumb pressing lightly against his pulse. His eyes flutter but he doesn’t pull away. He tilts into it, moaning like he’s been waiting his whole life for this.
A moan tears out of me when he folds my other leg up, pinning me open with each hand firmly around my thighs, angling deeper.
He doesn’t move for a second, just stays buried deep inside me, as we both catch our breath. The stretch is intense, a fullness that makes my toes curl into the mattress, but it’s the heat that’s undoing me.
For the first time, Rylen isn’t pulling away. He isn’t putting that wall of glass between us or looking for the nearest exit. He’s fully present with me.
“You feel that? You’re mine,” he rasps against my mouth. “Admit you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I moan.
“Very good boy,” he growls, the sound vibrating through my chest and straight down to where we’re joined.
Then he shifts and draws back in a slow, agonisingly heavy pull—dragging against me until I’m practically begging for the return. He lingers at the very tip for a heartbeat, letting the friction set me on fire, before he drives back in with one deliberately deep thrust.
He bottoms out, burying himself so deep it knocks the breath right out of my lungs and sends stars across my vision. A white-hot spark that radiates through my entire lower half and turns my bones to liquid.
A broken moan hitches in my throat as he pins me to the mattress, the sheer weight and depth of him finally filling the ache I’ve been carrying for thirteen years.
He pulls back and plunges again, harder this time, finding that perfect, sensitive rhythm that has his name screaming from my lips.
My brain short-circuits, the world outside this room—the blood, the betrayal, the shadows—fading into nothing but the steady, relentless heat of him .
“Fuck, Ry—just like that,” I gasp, my voice breaking. My back arches higher off the bed, fingers digging into his shoulders, dragging my nails over the ink on his skin.
He picks up the pace, his movements becoming more frantic, more primal. Every time he plunges back into me, the bed frame thuds against the wall.
He’s not being the cold professional now, or the man who just dismantled someone in a basement. He’s the boy who used to hold me while I cried, finally letting himself have the one thing he’s been denying himself all these years.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him in even tighter, wanting to feel every inch of him. My hand stays anchored at his throat, squeezing just enough to feel his pulse racing beneath my thumb, matching the thundering rhythm of my own heart.
“You’ve been… driving me fucking crazy,” he mutters between clenched teeth, his thrusts turning shallow and fast, targeting that one spot until my vision starts to blur at the edges.
“Every time I looked at you… I told myself I’d ruin you. That I was too far gone. But I can’t… I can’t stop wanting this.”
“Then don’t stop,” I challenge, my hips rolling up to meet him, “Don’t you dare walk away again. Stay right here, with me.”
He lets out a low, throaty hum and grabs both of my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand. He looms over me, his muscles corded and glistening with sweat in the low light, looking down at me with a possessive fire .
The friction is building, a white-hot tension winding tighter and tighter in my gut. I’m close, so fucking close to coming, my cock rubbing against his stomach with every frantic movement. I can feel him pulsing inside me, his own climax just a hair’s breadth away.
“Mads…” he groans, his grip on my wrists tightening as his pace becomes erratic. His head falls back, his eyes snapping shut as he finally lets go of the control he prizes so much.
“I’ve got you, love,” I choke out, my own release crashing over me like a tidal wave.
I cry out his name, the sound muffled against his shoulder as my body spasms around him.
He follows a second later, a deep, soul-shaking moan tearing from his throat as he hits his limit, pouring himself into me until he’s trembling, his weight finally collapsing onto my chest.
We stay like that for a long time, tangled together in the quiet of the room.
The only sound is our ragged breathing. Rylen buries his face in the crook of my neck, his heart beating against mine in a slow, steady drum.
I can feel the tension finally leaving his shoulders, the ‘protector’ inside him finally resting.
I run my hand through his damp hair, pulling him closer. The fear of earlier, the blood in the basement, the shadow of Miller—it’s all still out there waiting for us. But right here, in the dark, the distance he kept between us is finally gone.
“You still feel like running?” I whisper into the silence, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
He shifts, lifting his head just enough to look me in the eye. He looks wrecked, vulnerable, and completely undone. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips—not a survival tactic this time, just a promise.
“No. I think I’m finally exactly where I’m supposed to be,” he murmurs, the vibration of his voice grounding me. His forehead rests against mine, his breath warm and uneven. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you so fucking much, Maddox.”
A soft, shaky laugh escapes me, the weight of the last decade finally lifting off my chest.
“I love you too, Rylen James,” I whisper against his lips. I can’t stop myself then—I’m leaning in, peppering kisses over his jaw, his temple, and the bridge of his nose.
My smile stretching wide as I try to press all that years-old devotion into his skin.