Chapter 35
PUSH PHASE: MAXIMUM ATTACK LAPS
We’re both quiet as we head toward the lifts not because there’s nothing left to say. It’s because the emotions surging through us that are bigger than words.
The ride up is silent, but not uncomfortable.
I lace my fingers through Christin’s and brush my thumb over the back of her hand, grounding myself in the reality of this moment.
A few hours ago, I stood atop a podium with thousands of people cheering my name.
Once, I would have thought it would be my crowning achievement.
I was wrong, because no win has ever made me feel the way Christin does. No victory has ever felt as complete as holding the hand of the woman I love, knowing her father supports my intent to keep doing exactly that.
We head down the hall to my room. Once inside, I turn to her slowly. Christin’s eyes lift to mine, steady and open. My hand rises to cup her cheek. “This look—”
“What?” Her hand comes up and closes around my wrist.
“It’s the love I never expected to earn back.” Without hesitation, I declare, “I love you, Christin.”
“I love you too.”
I pull her closer, slower this time, giving her the chance to stop me. I won. Not just the race, but the heart of the woman beside me. Of the two, it’s the latter that means more. After all, success fades. The press will cover someone else’s accomplishments or failures soon enough.
Her hands trace every inch of my chest, her touch leaving a brand on my heart. It’s a reminder that, after every fear I carried after my inconsiderate words, we found our way back to a future with each other. One built not on promises or perfection, but on love.
Cupping her face, I lower my forehead to hers for the briefest moment before closing the distance between us. Our kiss starts soft—like we both understand this moment isn’t meant to be rushed. It’s meant to be remembered.
Her fingers curl over my heartbeat, and I swear she can feel how her nearness affects me. It pounds for her. For this. For us.
I pull back for some air before brushing my mouth against hers again, slower this time, catching her lower lip between mine and tugging gently before sliding my tongue past her lips to claim the sweet heat inside. She makes a soft sound against my mouth even as she pulls me closer.
Walking her backward toward the bedroom, I hear her exhale sharply when I drag my lips down to her throat, pressing my teeth lightly against her pulse point.
Her hands tremble as they work at undoing my shirt buttons while I reach around and find the zipper at the back of her dress, drawing it down slowly, knuckle by knuckle along her spine. The fabric loosens and falls from her shoulders.
I step back just far enough to look at her, her chest rising and falling quickly, her lips parted.
She reaches behind her and unclasps her bra, letting it drop to the floor between us.
Once she’s done, I pull her forward. When the warmth of her bare skin rests against my chest, pulling a low moan from me.
Then I grab her wrist and lay a gentle kiss on her palm before pressing it flat against my sternum and guiding it downward over my aching cock.
I move us closer to the bed even as she kicks off her heels and I toe off my shoes. She laughs and grabs my shoulders as I spin her before depositing her in the center of the bed. Her chestnut hair fans out beneath her.
She whispers my name even as her hands find my jaw to pull me down to her mouth. I kiss her slowly before I lean back and reach down to work her underwear over her hips and down her thighs. She lifts her knees to help me. I pull them free and let them fall somewhere off the edge of the mattress.
I take a second to admire her spread out beneath me. Christin doesn’t shy away. She holds my gaze before grazing her fingertips down the muscles of my stomach until she finds my waistband.
I let her undo the button and zipper before taking over. Pushing to my feet, I shuck everything off, letting it drop to the floor.
When I come back down over her, she shivers before her body arches into mine. Pressing her back into the mattress with one hand flat on her stomach, I worship her with my mouth from her lips, down the column of her throat, and continuing lower.
Slowly, I drag my lips across the slope of her breast, taking her nipple between my teeth and causing her to moan. Her fingers slip into my hair, holding me there.
I give her what she wants, lavishing both breasts, until she’s writhing beneath me.
Eventually, I continue down her body, brushing tender kisses against her ribs, her stomach, the soft skin below her navel.
Her thighs fall open, and I settle between them.
I part her soft folds only to find her soaked.
When I put my mouth on her, she gasps and her hips buck upward.
I take my time enjoying every second of her thighs tightening against my head, the urgent sounds she makes, and the way her fingers twist in my hair.
When I finally come back up the length of her body after her climax, she is flushed from her chest to her cheekbones.
Her lips are parted, breath coming in shallow pants.
She drags me down by the back of the neck and kisses me deep, her tongue gliding against mine, the taste of her on both our lips.
I feel her hand wrap around me, stroking once, twice, before guiding the head of my cock against her slick heat.
I push forward slowly, watching her face, feeling the tight give of her as she stretches around me.
Her mouth falls open and her head tips back hard into the pillow, a low sound escaping her throat.
I stay perfectly still, my forehead pressed against her temple, buried fully inside her, my arms trembling with the effort of staying still, my breath ragged against her ear.
Her body pulses around me in small, rhythmic contractions.
I pull back slightly only to press my hips flush against hers, grinding forward, and she makes a broken sound as she digs her nails into my back.
I used to think there was no better high than winning. I was wrong. The only high I need is her.
Drawing back in a long, slow drag until only the tip remains inside her, I drive forward again in one long stroke. Her breath leaves her in a rush, her ankles crossing at the small of my back and pulling me deeper with every thrust as I push us both closer to the edge.
As I drive us to completion, I can’t stop telling her how much I love her.
When we’re finally sated, neither of us moves away from the other.
I roll her to lie atop me. She rests her forehead against my chest, her smile soft and wrecking all at once.
She teases in a quiet voice, “You know, for someone raised by emotionally constipated aristocrats, you’ve become surprisingly open about love. ”
A laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it. “You ruined me.”
“No,” she corrects gently, fingertips brushing along my jaw. “I just loved you.”
When she falls asleep next to me, when the adrenaline pumping in my veins finally fades, the world narrows down to something profound.
Her.
Me.
Us.
And for the first time in a long time, I look forward to whatever happens next.