Chapter 15
The door clicked shut behind them, and the sound seemed to reverberate inside her, amplifying everything—the rush of her pulse, the uneven rhythm of her breathing, and the awareness of him a step behind her.
She didn’t move far. Just enough to take in the space.
Closed curtains shut out the last of the evening light.
A neatly made queen-size bed dressed in shades of navy and tan sat against one wall, with a dark wood dresser scarred by years of use opposite it.
The bedside lamp cast a softer, dimmer glow than the one in the main room, bathing everything in warm light.
The faint scent of clean laundry mingled with something distinctly his—soap, leather, and the outdoors, sun-warmed and familiar.
It should’ve felt strange.
It didn’t.
When she turned to face him, the air between them shifted the second their eyes met. Whatever had been building all day hadn’t faded. If anything, it had sharpened, stretched tighter, like something ready to snap.
Or give.
He didn’t rush her or close the distance between them right away. He stood there, watching her as though making sure of something. She felt seen and measured at the same time.
It soothed her more than anything else.
She took a step toward him and then another, letting the space between them disappear.
His hands reached for her first—one at her waist, the other sliding up along her arm, slow enough that she felt every goose bump he raised.
The touch sent a shiver through her, not from nerves but from the way it lingered, erotic and possessive.
It had been over two years since a man had touched her like this, and her body answered him with an eagerness that surprised her.
Her palms pressed lightly against his chest, feeling the solid rise and fall beneath her hands. The steady beat of his heart didn’t match the way hers had picked up, but it calmed her all the same, giving her something to focus on as the rest of the world slipped away.
He lowered his head and claimed her lips once more. His hand tightened at her waist as she leaned into him. Her fingertips skimmed over the muscles of his back, and she lost herself in the way he kissed her—slow, patient, and utterly consuming.
This wasn’t careful. It wasn’t distant. And for the first time in longer than she wanted to think about, she didn’t feel like she had to hold anything back.
Her breath caught as his mouth moved from hers, tracing along her jaw and the side of her neck, each touch pulling a different reaction from her—sharper, deeper, and harder to ignore. She tipped her head back, giving him better access.
A desperate moan slipped out before she could stop it. Another followed.
Her hands moved on their own, exploring the solid line of his shoulders, the warmth beneath his shirt, and the strength in him that felt both reassuring and dangerous all at once.
The uneven catch of his breath and the flex of muscle beneath her fingertips told her she wasn't the only one struggling to stay in control.
That realization spread through her in a way that made everything else fade.
This wasn’t just him. It wasn’t just her. It was them—both caught in the same tide, the same need that had been building since the moment they met.
Her forehead rested against his, her breath uneven as she tried to catch it—tried to slow down enough to think. It didn’t work. She didn’t really want it to. And even if she did, he made it impossible.
Being in his arms swept everything else out of reach.
For the first time in longer than she could remember, she wasn’t bracing for the next bad day, the next decline, or the next loss.
The months of watching her mother fade, of holding everything together until there was nothing left to hold... it all loosened its grip.
The father she’d never known didn’t matter. Neither did the brothers she'd never really had—one she hated, the other a stranger. Even that constant sense of being shortchanged by life—of being owed something more—fell away.
There was no past pressing in. No future waiting to take something else from her.
Only the here and now... and him.
She'd been with other men before, but nothing had ever felt this intense. She stopped trying to make sense of what she was feeling and simply let herself feel it. His unwavering attention and the way her body answered without hesitation stripped everything down to something raw and undeniable.
His mouth claimed hers again, firmer this time, his intent unmistakable in the way his hands framed her face before sliding down to guide her closer.
She pushed his shirt up, needing it out of the way, needing nothing between them. He broke the kiss long enough to drag it over his head, tossing it aside without looking, his focus already back on her, as if he couldn’t stand the distance even for a second.
His fingers caught the hem of her shirt, drawing the material up her body—giving her every chance to stop him if she wanted.
She didn’t.
Instead, she lifted her arms, her breath catching as his knuckles grazed her sides and the fabric slipped free. The air felt cooler against her skin, but only for an instant before his touch returned, warm and sure as he explored her waist, her ribs, and the curve beneath her breasts.
She traced the broad planes of his chest, memorizing every hard line of muscle beneath warm skin. He gripped her hips and guided her backward without breaking the kiss until the backs of her legs met the edge of the mattress.
Whatever restraint had carried them this far dissolved. She matched his urgency, kissing him until breathing became secondary. The glide of his lips and the slow sweep of his tongue only fed the hunger that had been building between them for weeks.
Slow no longer held any appeal.
Reality had surpassed every fantasy she'd allowed herself to imagine.
Her hands drifted down his back to the waistband of his jeans. She freed the button, feeling his rock-hard cock behind the material, lowered the zipper, and smiled against his lips when he let out a quiet laugh.
“In a hurry?” he asked.
“Very much.”
His grin widened. They broke apart just long enough to toe off their boots. He pushed his jeans and boxer briefs down together before kicking them aside. His erection stood proudly, a nest of trim brown curls at its base. Pre-cum pearled at its slit.
Without taking her eyes off him, she reached behind her back and released the clasp of her bra.
The straps slipped down her arms before she tossed the white lace aside.
Cool air from the vent swept across her bare skin, tightening her nipples, while the ache between her legs reminded her just how badly she wanted him.
She made quick work of the button and zipper on her jeans, sliding them and her panties down her legs before nudging the pile aside with her foot.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
His gaze swept over her, open admiration giving way to unmistakable awe.
“God, Shy,” he whispered. “You're incredible.”
Warmth crept into her cheeks. “You're not so bad yourself.”
Chuckling, he closed the distance between them again. Without taking his eyes from hers, he lowered her onto the bed and followed, supporting his weight above her as his mouth found hers once more.
The kiss slowed, no less passionate but far more deliberate. His lips brushed hers one last time before drifting to the corner of her mouth, then along the curve of her jaw. Each unhurried kiss left her wanting the next one.
A shiver raced through her as he traced a path down the side of her neck, pausing just long enough to draw a soft moan from her before continuing lower. His hands wandered with the same patient reverence, exploring her as though committing every inch of her to memory.
Every nerve in Shylo's body seemed to come alive as he continued exploring her, leaving her breathless with anticipation.
Her fingers threaded through his short hair, nails grazing his scalp, as he turned his attention to her breasts, sucking and licking at the sensitive peaks. The pleasure stole every coherent thought until all she could do was arch into him, wanting more of whatever he was willing to give.
One hand slid down between her legs, finding her wet and ready for him. When he shifted lower on the bed, his lips brushing her torso along the way, a whimper of need erupted from her throat and her pulse quickened.
As he positioned himself between her knees and spread her legs, his gaze met hers and held it. “Look at me, Shy.”
She did.
The way he looked at her unraveled something deep inside her. Men had desired her before. She'd never felt cherished at the same time.
The first sweep of his tongue across her clit stole her breath.
A startled gasp escaped before she could stop it as pleasure she'd almost forgotten how to feel coursed through her body in relentless waves. Her fingers clutched the comforter beneath her.
She'd expected it to feel good.
She hadn't expected him to undo her.
He lapped at the bundle of nerves as he eased one finger, then two, into her core.
He didn’t rush, giving her time to feel every new sensation before another followed.
Her breathing turned ragged, her hips lifting on instinct until his hand anchored her, silently encouraging her to let go instead of pulling away.
“Seth...” His name broke from her in little more than a whisper.
Without letting up on his sensual assault, he glanced up, their eyes meeting again, and the raw emotion she found there made her heart stumble. Nothing else seemed to exist for him in that moment except the two of them.
He seemed to know exactly how close he was bringing her to the edge, drawing it out with exquisite patience until she was trembling for release. The tension continued to build, each passing moment winding her tighter until she wasn't sure how much more she could bear.
“Please,” she said breathlessly, her fingers twisting into the comforter. “Don't stop.”
He answered with a faint smile that reached his eyes before lowering his mouth to her again, and she surrendered to the rising tide, trusting him completely.
The orgasm shattered her when it finally broke free.
She cried out his name, unable to hold it back.
Her body bowed from the mattress, her eyes squeezed shut as bursts of color flashed behind her eyelids.
Tremors swept through her, one after another, until she could do nothing but ride them to their end.
Gradually, the waves ebbed, leaving every muscle pleasantly limp. Her breathing came in uneven pulls as she opened her eyes.
Seth was watching her.
His expression made her heart flutter. Satisfaction gave way to something far more intimate, as though bringing her pleasure had been just as important to him as his own.
He brushed a gentle kiss against her inner thigh before lifting his gaze to hers again. “Still with me?”
She laughed softly, still trying to catch her breath. “Barely.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Barely?”
He climbed back over her, his gaze never leaving hers.
She smiled, her fingers sliding into his hair. “Completely.”
“Good answer.” He ground his erection against her mound. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”