Chapter 10 #2
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, her hands finding the line of my jaw, the heat of her palms seeping through my skin. I let myself sink into it, the slow burn of her mouth as she kissed me, the thrum of desire starting low and spreading outward until it was the only thing I could feel.
When she finally broke the kiss, she was breathless. “So, you’ve seen the lovely kitchen and living room. Want a tour of the bedroom?”
My voice was a low rasp. “Is that where the real magic happens?”
“Only one way to find out,” she murmured, taking my hand and leading me down the short hallway.
We didn’t let go of each other, stumbling into the room in a jumble of limbs and mouths. The bedroom was as simple and hopeful as the rest of the apartment—a queen bed with a white comforter, a stack of books on the floor, and moonlight spilling through the open window.
The air was thick with unspoken promises. This time was different. Not the frantic collision of two people at the end of a wedding. This was a beginning.
I reached for the hem of her shirt, my movements slow and deliberate.
She watched me as I drew the fabric up and over her head, letting it fall to the floor.
I undressed her with reverence, unhooking her bra, unbuttoning her shorts, my fingers tracing the lines of her body as if I were memorizing a map.
When she was bare and standing in a pool of moonlight, I studied her for a moment, my chest tight with an emotion too big to name. She didn’t try to cover herself. She held my gaze, offering a vulnerability I was desperate to protect.
She reached for the buttons on my shirt, her hands trembling slightly as she worked them free. We remained silent, every touch a question and an answer, until there was nothing between us but the cool night air and the heavy weight of everything we’d almost lost.
I lifted her into my arms and carried her the last few feet to the bed, letting her fall back onto the soft comforter. As she moved beneath the covers, I followed her down, settling between her legs, her body parting for me in a silent, perfect invitation.
Her skin was electric. I could feel her tense and relax, her breath catching each time my hand moved. I palmed the curve of her ass, pulled her tight against me, and she arched in response, her mouth finding my neck.
I took my time. I kissed her jaw, the hollow behind her ear, the delicate ridge of her collarbone. I slid my hand between her thighs, feeling the damp heat.
“Oh, yes,” she breathed.
I circled my fingers, slow at first, watching her face for every twitch and shiver. She closed her eyes, biting her lip, her thighs trembling as I worked her higher. I added a finger, and her whole body jerked in response.
“Dean—” she gasped.
I didn’t let up. I kissed her again, deep and claiming.
“Let go for me,” I whispered against her lips.
She did. She climaxed with a shudder, back arched, nails digging into my shoulders. I watched her ride it out, her face slack with pleasure. I stroked her through the aftershocks, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.
When she could speak again, she gave me a cocky smile. “You were always good at showing off.” She reached for me, bracing my hips with both hands. “Your turn.”
I shook my head. “No.”
She gave me a look—half challenge, half invitation. “You’re going to make me beg?”
“There’s an idea,” I said with a grin. “Put that one in the memory file.”
Instead, I grabbed my wallet out of my shorts and rolled on the condom.
As I settled above her, she surprised me by rolling me onto my back and climbing astride me, her hair falling around her face like a curtain.
She took my shaft in her hand, stroking it slowly, her eyes locked on mine.
When she lined herself up and sank down, it was torture—hot, tight, perfect.
I groaned, gripping her hips, trying to hold on as she started to ride me.
She moved slowly at first, grinding down, her eyes closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she tested the rhythm.
I let her take the lead, my hands roaming from the curve of her waist to the smooth skin of her back, every part of me content to just follow.
When she picked up the pace, the sight of her completely unraveled me. She threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back, the muscles in her throat defined in the moonlight from the window. She was completely lost in the moment, in the pleasure, utterly and beautifully unguarded.
All the noise in my head—the projections, the years of self-imposed rules—it all just stopped. There was only her and pure, unfiltered honesty. This was the real life I’d run from. Not a liability to be managed, but a truth to be lived. And it was the most captivating thing I had ever witnessed.
She leaned down then, her hair tenting around us, her mouth at my ear. “You’re mine, and don’t forget it.”
The words, so fierce and possessive, shot through me. “Always.”
I thrust up, hard, and she cried out, her body shuddering. I grabbed her ass, holding her in place as I took her deeper, harder.
“Brynn,” I groaned, “I’m so close…”
She covered my mouth with hers, kissing me through it, her body squeezing me so tight I almost saw stars. I climaxed inside her, hips jerking, hands clutching her as if I could fuse us together. She whimpered, her whole body shaking in my arms.
We collapsed in a heap, her head on my chest, my arms around her. For a long time, there was only the sound of our breathing.
I traced lazy circles on her back. “This,” I said, my voice husky, “right here is what I was so afraid of.”
She propped herself up on an elbow, her expression soft and questioning. “Being with me?”
“Not just that. Feeling this real. I didn’t think I could handle it.” I smiled, burying my face in her hair. “Turns out I can’t live without it.”
A soft, deep breath escaped her, and she lowered her head back to my chest, her cheek warm against my skin. Her hand came up to rest over my heart, as if she could feel the truth of the words beating there.
We lay in the quiet, the moonlight painting silver stripes across the rumpled sheets.
The promise of morning and a thousand new beginnings waited just outside the door.
There were still moves to be made, businesses to build, and a lifetime of arguments over whose turn it was to take out the trash. It was weird and complicated and scary.
And for the first time, I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
When I dreamed, it was of salt and sunlight, and the taste of her laughter on my tongue.