Chapter 47
BECK
The night air is cool as we walk hand in hand toward the small stone building tucked behind the reception tent. The sounds of the wedding—music, laughter, sparklers still hissing in the grass—fade the farther we go.
Sophie’s fingers are warm against mine, her steps soft on the cobblestone path. She’s still wearing my suit jacket draped over her shoulders, the sleeves too long, and something about it hits me square in the chest.
She unlocks the door, pushing it open to reveal a softly lit room that smells faintly of lavender and clean linens. There’s a king-sized bed in the center, the duvet turned down, and a single lamp casts a golden pool of light over everything. It’s quiet. Private.
My heart kicks up a notch.
Sophie steps inside first, turning to face me as I close the door behind us. Her eyes catch the light—wide, a little nervous, but sure.
I let my gaze drift down slowly, taking her in. The soft waves in her hair from the night, the way her dress still clings to her in places, the bare skin of her shoulders under my jacket.
Tension hums between us, electric and warm.
She laughs softly, like she can feel it too. “You’re staring.”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice lower than usual. “I am.”
I move toward her slowly, giving her every chance to stop me, but she doesn’t. Her breath hitches when my hands find the edges of my jacket where it hangs on her shoulders. I tug gently, pulling her a little closer.
The space between us disappears.
Her perfume—light, floral, her—wraps around me, mixing with the faint scent of wine and night air. My pulse drums in my ears.
“I didn’t know you were bringing my bag,” I murmur, my thumb brushing against the fabric at her hip.
She looks up at me from under her lashes, cheeks warm. “I didn’t know if you’d say yes to staying. But I…hoped.”
Something about the way she says it—quiet but bold—lands deep in my chest.
I dip my head slightly, letting my forehead rest against hers. Her hands slide up my chest, fingertips tracing over the lapels of my shirt.
For a long moment, we just breathe together. Slow. In sync.
The tension isn’t frantic. It’s more like standing on the edge of something you want to fall into.
I tilt my head and kiss her.
It starts soft, but it doesn’t stay that way.
Her hands fist lightly in my shirt as I deepen the kiss, and I feel her melt against me, her body fitting against mine like it was meant to. My fingers slide to the small of her back, holding her there, not to trap—but to anchor.
When we finally break apart, both of us are breathing harder. Her lips are flushed, her eyes bright.
“Wow,” she whispers, a smile tugging at her mouth.
I laugh quietly, forehead still resting against hers. “Yeah. Wow.”
Her smile softens as I brush a strand of hair off her cheek, my fingers lingering along her jaw. The warmth of her skin seeps into me, grounding and electric all at once.
Her lips part, soft at first, then hungry as she clings to my shirt, dragging me closer.
Her mouth is sweet and insistent, her teeth grazing my lower lip, tongue teasing at the seam of my mouth until I open for her.
My hands slide down, finding the curve of her hips, pulling her flush against me.
Her dress is warm from her skin, slipping beneath my fingers as I tug her in.
She moans quietly, hands grabbing in my hair, and the sound goes straight to my blood.
I push her gently against the bed, letting her feel how much I want her, how hot and restless my body’s grown.
Her head tips back, throat exposed, and I drag my mouth down to taste the skin there—her pulse stuttering under my lips.
I rock my hips into hers, both of us losing ourselves in the tension—heat building, breaths growing ragged. I tug the jacket off her shoulders, letting it pool silently on the floor. My palms slide up her bare arms, tracing goosebumps, feeling her shiver under my hands.
We stumble to the bed, tangled, breathless.
I press her down, follow her, and kiss her again—deeper, harder, letting the world fall away.
My thigh slips between hers, and she arches into me, her need as sharp as mine.
We lose ourselves in the friction, the desperate want, hands exploring, mouths hungry and urgent.
She gasps into my mouth, nails scraping my neck, legs twining with mine. For a dizzy, endless moment, there’s nothing but her—the taste of her, the heat of her, the way she clings to me like she’ll never let go.
I press one last kiss to Sophie’s lips, lingering in the taste of her. Her hands slip from my neck reluctantly as I murmur, voice thick, “I, uh, rushed my shower after the game. I should probably take care of that before bed.”
She arches an eyebrow, lips rosy and swollen. “Okay.”
I duck into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me, and the quiet is a relief—a chance to catch my breath. My body is thrumming, charged with everything that just happened between us, the want almost painful. I strip down, step into the shower, and let the hot water soak over my skin.
For a minute, I just stand there, forehead pressed to the tile, picturing Sophie.
Hair messy from my hands, dress bunched around her thighs, the sound she made when I pressed against her.
My cock is already hard—aching. I wrap my hand around myself, slick from the water, and stroke slow, imagining it’s her fingers instead.
Every movement feeds the tension knotted low in my belly, and I bite back a groan, her name on my lips. I imagine her mouth, the way she looked at me a few minutes ago, the heat in her eyes. My hips move without thinking, chasing the friction, wanting more.
I lose myself in the fantasy, pumping harder, breaths coming rough and fast. I’m right on the edge, so close to losing it, when I think I hear her voice. Muffled and distant behind the bathroom door.
“Beck.”
My hand freezes. For a second I’m not sure if I imagined it, but then I hear her again, a little louder, a little breathless. “Beck.”
I curse softly, hastily rinsing off. With my heart racing, I grab a towel, wrap it around my waist, and step out into the steam-filled room.
She’s sprawled at the center of the bed, her dress hiked up, hand working slowly between her thighs, her other fist tangled tight in the sheets. Her head is tipped back, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut in abandon. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
The sight of her is enough to make me instantly hard again. The ache from the shower crashes back, sharper and deeper than before.
All I can do is stare, caught in the heat of her gaze, the towel barely hanging on as I take slow, hungry steps toward her.
She startles as she senses me, a crimson flush blooming across her cheeks. She tries to tug her dress down, even as her breathing stutters. “I—I didn’t think you’d…I—”
I’m at the edge of the bed in an instant, voice thick and low with everything I’m feeling. “Don’t stop, Sophie.” My gaze rakes over her—over the bared skin of her thighs, the way her chest heaves, the need so clear in her eyes. “You don’t need to hide from me. Not ever.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, hungry and a little wild. For a heartbeat, she’s frozen, hand pausing beneath the fabric. I kneel on the mattress—barely aware that my towel’s about to slip, not caring at all. I want her to see what she does to me.
She bites her lip, cheeks burning, but she doesn’t look away. “Were you…?” Her voice is small, uncertain, but hope glimmers there.
“Yeah.” I let the towel drop, my cock already hard and aching for her. “I couldn’t help myself.” I take myself in hand, moving slow, letting her see every inch, every shudder of my body. “I got in the shower thinking of your hands on me. Of you on me. It’s all I could picture.”
She lets out a shaky breath, eyes tracing down my body, her hand slipping between her thighs again, bolder now. “I’ll keep going…if you do too.”
A slow, wicked smile twists my lips.
“Deal.” I tighten my grip, stroking myself in time with the way she moves.
“God, you drive me insane, Sophie. You have no idea how fucking sexy you look right now. That dress, those pretty little sounds you make…” My voice drops to a growl.
“Touch yourself for me, pretty girl. Let me see how much you want it.”
Her breath hitches as she circles her clit, fingers slick and sure now, eyes locked on me. Her cheeks are blazing, but there’s no shyness left—not with the way I’m drinking her in, showing her exactly what she does to me. The whole room feels thick with heat and want.
“Yeah, just like that,” I murmur, voice rough with need. “Don’t be shy. I want to see you fall apart for me. Keep your eyes on me, Sophie. I want you to watch what you do to me too.”
She bites her lip, her gaze flickering up, and I see the trust there, raw and open.
I slow my hand, matching her rhythm, making sure she can see every stroke.
“You know what I was thinking in there?” I ask, eyes never leaving hers.
“I was thinking about how you would taste. The way your hips would roll up to meet my mouth. How you would sound when you beg for me to make you come.”
She whimpers, her head rolling back, but I reach out and touch her knee, gently grounding her. “Eyes on me, pretty girl,” I whisper, voice low and commanding. “I want to see you when you come for me.”
Her lashes flutter open, pupils blown wide. “Beck…” My name is a breathless plea, her voice trembling with want.
“Don’t look away. Let me see all of you. That’s it,” I coax, stroking myself harder, letting her see the way her pleasure undoes me. “You’re fucking perfect. And you’re mine. No one else gets to see you like this. Just me. You’re so goddamn beautiful when you let go.”
Her hips start to stutter, her breath catching as she moves her fingers faster, eyes never leaving mine. The need between us is fever-hot, the tension coiling and ready to snap.
“You’re so close, aren’t you?” I murmur, leaning forward, my own release building with every sound she makes. “That’s it, Sophie. I want you to fall apart for me. Right here—let me see you lose it. Let me see you come.”
Her hand falters for a moment, the intensity almost too much, but she keeps her gaze locked on mine, her body tensing. I match her, stroking myself with purpose, letting her see every detail—every way she undoes me.
“I can’t—I—” Her words dissolve into a gasp, her thighs trembling.
“Yes, you can,” I say, voice rough, every muscle drawn tight. “Come for me, Sophie. Look into my eyes and let go.”
She shatters—her back arching, mouth falling open, eyes wide and shining with pleasure.
She cries out my name, voice broken and honest, and the sight of her completely undone drags me over the edge.
My release rips through me, pleasure sharp and overwhelming, and I can’t look away from her, the way she’s coming apart just for me.
For a long moment, we’re both panting in the aftermath, the room heavy with the scent of sex and the electricity of what just happened.
I wipe a trembling hand across my mouth, chest still heaving, every nerve in my body on fire.
She’s sprawled across the bed, utterly spent, hair wild and cheeks glowing.
I reach for her, drawing her close, not caring about the mess or the sweat or the way our bodies are still shaking. I press a kiss to her forehead, breathing her in, heart pounding with something that’s not just lust but so much more.
“Jesus, Sophie,” I whisper, voice hoarse. “You wreck me.”
She gives me a shaky laugh, curling into my side, her hand finding my chest. “You make it so easy.”
I brush a strand of damp hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Next time,” I murmur, “I’m not letting you finish yourself.”
She shivers at that, leaning in for a lazy, lingering kiss. “Next time, I might not let you shower alone.”
We lay there for a while, bodies tangled, the world hushed around us, every barrier lowered. I press kisses to her hair, her shoulder, anywhere I can reach, and she sighs in contentment, fitting herself perfectly against me.
“Still embarrassed?” I tease gently, tracing lazy circles over her hip.
She shakes her head, smiling against my skin. “Not even a little.”
“Good,” I say, voice thick with affection and promise. “I never want you to hide from me. Not ever.”
For a long moment, we just breathe together, tangled in the afterglow, letting the room settle around us. I press a slow kiss to her forehead, still reeling from how completely she lets me in.
Sophie traces lazy patterns on my chest, her legs draped over mine, a soft smile playing at her lips. After a few quiet moments, she tilts her head up to meet my gaze, her eyes still shining with mischief and something deeper.
“So,” she says, voice teasing and a little breathless, “about that shower…”
A grin finds me before I can stop it. “Yeah?”
She pushes herself up on her elbow, hair wild around her face, and leans in for a kiss—this one sweet, lingering, full of promise. “I think you owe me one. But this time, I’m not letting you go in there alone.”
I laugh, the sound vibrating through both of us. “Good. Because I don’t think I could keep my hands off you, even if I tried.”
We stumble into the bathroom together, laughter and anticipation buzzing between us.
The shower’s still steamy, the tiles warm beneath our feet.
I turn the water back on, adjusting the temperature as Sophie steps out of her dress, letting it slip to the floor, anything that was under it gone before I came back out of the bathroom earlier.
She stands before me, flushed and beautiful, waiting. I reach for her, drawing her under the spray, and she sighs as the hot water slicks over her skin.
She closes her eyes, a look of pure pleasure on her face as I massage her scalp, working in the shampoo, letting the suds slide down her neck and shoulders. “Feels amazing,” she murmurs, swaying into my touch.
I rinse her hair, trailing my hands down her back, sliding soap across every inch of her slow and unhurried, worshipful. “You’re unreal,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her temple.
She spins in my arms, water streaming between us, and leans up to kiss me.
“Best shower I’ve ever had,” she whispers against my lips.
We linger beneath the water, washing away everything but the warmth between us, hands and laughter and soft kisses mingling with the sound of the shower. When we finally step out, dripping and new, I towel her off, wrapping her in my arms, already longing for every tomorrow this night promises.