Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Maverick
I wasn’t supposed to be here.
I had spent the entire day trying to focus, trying to drown myself in work, trying to pretend that last night hadn’t happened. But it had. And now, no matter how hard I tried to bury it, it was clawing its way back to the surface, demanding to be acknowledged.
The way she had looked at me before walking out of my office.
The way her breath had hitched when my fingers had tightened on her waist. The way her pulse had jumped beneath my lips when I whispered against her skin.
I had told her to go home, had told myself that keeping my distance was the right thing to do, that whatever this was between us needed to stay contained.
But it wasn’t contained.
It was burning through me, unraveling my control, turning into something I couldn’t ignore anymore.
And now I was here, standing outside her door, jaw clenched, hands fisting at my sides, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I didn’t even remember the drive.
One second, I had been sitting in my penthouse, staring at a glass of whiskey I hadn’t touched. The next, I was gripping my steering wheel, barely stopping at red lights, my mind consumed with only one thing—her.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I lifted my hand and knocked.
A moment of silence. Then the sound of soft footsteps. A quiet click of the lock.
And then—Solenn.
She stood barefoot in the doorway, drowning in an oversized sweater that hung loosely off one shoulder, exposing the delicate curve of her collarbone. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, stray strands framing her face, and her eyes—widened in surprise, dark with something else entirely.
"Maverick," she breathed, blinking as if she wasn’t sure if she was imagining me. "What are you?—"
I didn’t let her finish.
I grabbed her.
Fisted my hands in her sweater and hauled her against me, crashing my mouth onto hers like I had been starving for this exact moment.
She gasped softly against my lips, but then—she melted.
Her fingers curled into my shirt, dragging me closer, pulling me in, giving me everything I had been denying myself. I walked her backward into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind us. My mouth moved against hers, rough, desperate, demanding, months of tension unraveling all at once.
Her hands slid up my chest, fingers threading into my hair, tugging, making me groan against her lips. I pressed her against the wall, pinning her there, feeling the heat of her body through the thin fabric of our clothes.
"Tell me to stop," I murmured against her mouth, my forehead pressing to hers, my breathing ragged. "If you don’t want this, Solenn—tell me to walk away."
Silence.
A single breath.
Then—she pulled me down and kissed me harder.
That was all I needed.
I lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carried her through the dimly lit apartment, not stopping, not hesitating, not thinking anymore. Her lips never left mine, her fingers still tangled in my hair, her soft gasps making my blood burn hotter.
I found her bedroom without looking.
The backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and we went down together, a mess of tangled limbs and whispered moans.
Her sweater was the first to go, tossed somewhere neither of us cared to find. My shirt followed, her hands dragging it over my head, her nails raking lightly down my back. I groaned, dropping my head to her shoulder, and biting down just enough to make her shudder.
She arched beneath me, her breath uneven, her skin warm, soft, inviting.
I took my time.
Kissing my way down her throat, across her collarbone, over every inch of skin I had only ever let myself imagine touching.
Her fingers traced down my spine, slow, torturous.
I exhaled shakily, lifting my head to meet her gaze.
She looked wrecked already.
Dark eyes, parted lips, cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
"I was waiting for this," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
I swallowed hard, brushing my thumb over the curve of her hip. "You think I wasn’t?"
She smirked a slow, wicked thing, before tugging me back down.
And then—no more talking.
Nothing but gasps and moans and whispered names.
Nothing but lips and hands and bodies tangled together in the dark.
Nothing but heat and hunger and months of unspoken desire finally, finally breaking free.
I felt every part of her.
Memorized the way her body responded to mine.
The way she moaned softly against my ear when I slid inside her, the way her nails dug into my back, pulling me closer, deeper like she never wanted me to stop.
And I didn’t.
I gave her everything.
Took everything.
We moved together, slow at first, then faster, rougher, more desperate, more lost.
Like we had been waiting for this moment our entire lives.
She shattered beneath me first, her body trembling, my name slipping from her lips in a breathless, broken moan.
It sent me over the edge right after.
I buried my face in her neck, groaning against her skin, our bodies tangled, our breaths heavy, our hearts pounding in sync.
For the first time in months, I didn’t feel restless.
Didn’t feel out of control.
I just felt… her.
Later, long after the storm had settled, we lay tangled in the sheets, our legs still entwined, our bodies still warm from the aftermath. The only sound was our breathing, steady and quiet, the weight of what had just happened sinking into the space between us.
I could feel her fingers tracing absent patterns against my chest.
Could hear the slight hitch in her breath as if she was about to say something but decided against it.
I didn’t know what to say either.
Because the line was gone.
We had obliterated it.
And there was no going back now.
I exhaled slowly, brushing my lips against her forehead, my arm tightening around her waist.
She didn’t move away.
Didn’t say a word.
Just curled into me like she belonged there.