Chapter 27
Olivia
My body melts into him, wrapped in the safety of his arms. For a long, quiet moment, I just breathe him in—the steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his skin against mine.
But then, almost without thinking, I shift, my hand sliding tentatively across the firm ridges of his stomach.
His abs tighten under my touch, all coiled strength and control.
I pause, breath hitching, then let my fingers drift lower, slow and hesitant, tracing the hard outline of his cock through his boxers.
A sharp breath escapes him, his body tensing beneath my touch. A quiet thrill runs through me—I did that to him.
“Liv…” he rasps, his voice rough as his hand wraps gently around my wrist, stilling me. His grip isn’t firm, just steady. “You don’t have to. Tonight was about you.”
I lift my eyes to his, cheeks burning, but I don’t look away. “I want to,” I whisper.
The air between us shifts, heavy, charged. I swear I could drown in the way he’s looking at me.
His eyes search mine, not with doubt, but with that careful, steady concern that’s so him, like he’s making absolutely sure I’m still okay, still certain. And I am. My heart is racing, my hands are shaking, but I’m not scared. Not with him.
He brushes a stray strand of hair back from my face, his touch slow and tender. His voice is low, almost cautious. “You sure?”
I nod, my pulse hammering. “I want to know what makes you feel good, too.”
For a moment, he just stares at me like the words knocked the air right out of him. His jaw flexes, and there’s something wild and unguarded in his eyes—like he’s barely holding himself back.
“Okay,” he says finally, his voice rough, almost hoarse, like the word costs him something to say.
But I don’t hesitate. I lean in closer, fingers already trailing down his stomach, and I keep going.
My fingers drift to the waistband of his boxers, my pulse hammering as I glance up, meeting his eyes one last time—a silent question.
He doesn’t stop me. Doesn’t even move. He just watches, steady and patient, like he’s giving me all the time in the world.
With shaky hands, I ease his boxers down, my pulse hammering in my ears. My breath catches as he’s revealed to me—this strong, beautiful man laid bare. His cock rests hard and heavy against his stomach, the sight of it stealing the air from my lungs.
He’s big, really big. Veins trace along the length, standing out against his smooth skin, and I can see the way he twitches slightly under my gaze.
God, he’s perfect.
The thought alone makes heat coil low in my belly, a slow, aching throb that tightens with every second I stare. I can’t stop imagining how he’d feel in my hand, how he’d feel inside me.
I force myself to look back up at him before I completely lose myself in the sight of him. His eyes are already on me—dark and heated, but patient.
“You can touch me, Liv,” he reassures, voice low and rough, wrapping around me like a promise and a plea all at once.
I swallow hard, my pulse racing as my fingers twitch with want. “Okay,” I whisper, barely more than breath, and finally—finally—I reach for him, wrapping my hand around his length.
The heat of him shocks me at first—hot and smooth against my palm, pulsing with every beat of his heart. He’s heavy in my hand, thick enough that my fingers don’t quite close around him, and the thought sends a flush crawling up my neck.
A sharp breath escapes him the moment I touch him, his abs tightening under my gaze, and his hips give the slightest, involuntary jerk toward me.
“Fuck…” he breathes, low and rough, his voice breaking like he’s trying to hold himself back.
I stroke him slowly at first, tentative, letting my hand glide along his length just to feel him—the silky skin stretched tight over hard, rigid muscle. My thumb brushes over the thick ridge at the head, slick already, and his jaw clenches, a deep groan rumbling from his chest.
“That’s it, baby,” he pants, his eyes half-lidded, fixed on me like he can’t look anywhere else. “Good girl, just like that.”
The praise sinks into me, feeding my boldness, and I let my fingers wrap a little tighter, moving with more purpose. I can feel every twitch, every flex of him under my touch, and it’s intoxicating—I’m doing this to him. Me.
He groans again, deeper this time, his head tipping back against the pillow. “God, that feels good…”
The power in it is unexpected, not just in the way he responds, but in the way it makes me feel. Bold. Wanted. Sure. Every sound he makes, every twitch of muscle under my touch, winds the air between us tighter, pulling me deeper into this heady, electric space where it’s just him and me.
Then, driven by something I don’t fully understand but ache to explore, I lean forward.
Tentatively, I let my tongue trace over the tip of him—soft, warm, tasting him for the first time. His body jolts, a sharp intake of breath breaking into a low, guttural groan that curls heat low in my belly. When I glance up, his eyes are wide, fixed on me.
“I just… wanted to taste you,” I whisper, cheeks burning, my pulse wild. The faint salt of him lingers on my tongue, and my core clenches, need thrumming through me so hard that I have to press my thighs together, desperately trying to dull the ache between them.
His hand comes up, cupping my face, thumb brushing softly at the corner of my mouth. The tenderness in the gesture nearly undoes me. His voice is rough, frayed with restraint when he confesses, “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips—part shy, part proud—even as my cheeks burn. My hand moves faster now, pumping him in quick, sure strokes, my grip firm as I work him from base to tip.
Who knew you could get this turned on just by touching someone else? By knowing you’re the one making them fall apart like this.
“Fuck. Just like that,” he groans, voice rough and breaking, like he’s barely holding it together. “You’re doing so good, baby.”
The words shoot straight through me, heat pooling low and tight in my belly. His praise steadies me, makes me bolder, and I move even quicker, my strokes smooth but relentless.
I watch him like I’m memorizing him—every twitch of muscle in his stomach, every sharp catch of his breath, the way his jaw clenches when I twist my wrist at the head just right.
His abs tighten, his thighs shift like he’s fighting to stay still, and every strained sound that slips from him feels like a secret he’s only giving to me.
And God, I love it.
Then I feel his hand slip between my thighs, fingers gliding over me like he already knows exactly what I need. I’m soaked—aching—and the second he touches me, a sharp, desperate sound escapes me as my hips lift to meet his hand.
He circles my clit in slow, deliberate strokes, just enough pressure to unravel me. I gasp, arching into him, the moan spilling from my lips before I can hold it back. My hand moves faster on him without thought, caught up in the rush of everything he’s making me feel.
“Kade,” I breathe, my hips grinding against his fingers, chasing that tightening coil low in my belly. “I’m—I’m so close.”
His eyes lock on mine, dark and wild, his jaw tight with restraint. His voice is low, rough, commanding in a way that makes my pulse stutter.
“Come with me, Liv,” he rasps. “I need to feel you fall apart.”
His words unravel something deep in me, snapping the last thread of control I had left. Then his fingers slide inside, curling just right, and my whole body seizes, trembling as the pressure coils tighter and tighter until I can’t breathe, can’t think—only feel.
The moan that tears from me is raw, breaking against his lips as I shatter in his hands. My body shakes, pleasure flooding through me in waves I can’t stop.
And then I feel him let go—his body locking tight, a guttural sound ripping from his chest as he follows me over the edge. Heat spills across my skin, his breath hot and ragged against my mouth as we fall apart together—fast, breathless, completely undone.
We stay wrapped in the quiet aftermath, bodies still trembling, breaths slowly evening out. My hand rests against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my palm, and his arm stays snug around my waist—holding me there like he needs the touch as much as I do.
And in the stillness, it hits me all at once: I’ve never felt anything like this. Not just the heat, not just the rush.
The safety. The closeness. The trust.
Kade’s fingers move lazily along my spine, tracing soft, absent patterns that make me melt further into him. I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the warmth of his body, into him.
He presses a slow kiss to the top of my head, his voice low and careful. “You, okay?”
I nod against his chest, then tilt my face up just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are soft, searching, filled with something so raw and unguarded it makes my chest ache.
“Yeah,” I whisper, my lips brushing his skin. “I’m… more than okay.”
Something shifts in his expression—tender, almost awed. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek like he doesn’t want to stop touching me.
“Was that…” My voice falters, shy but curious. “Good for you?”
Kade’s eyes lock on mine, warm and unwavering. His thumb strokes my cheek, and his voice is low, honest, with a rough edge that sends a shiver through me.
“Good doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he promises. “You made me come so hard, Liv. You have no idea what you do to me.”
We fall into silence again before Kade slowly untangles himself from me. I watch his bare skin disappear down the hall, the soft sound of running water following close behind.
He returns quickly, a damp washcloth in his hand, and settles onto the edge of the bed.
“Let me clean you up,” he whispers, gentle as he wipes away his cum from my skin, then carefully wipes between my legs.
When he drops the cloth into the laundry basket, he climbs back into bed and pulls me close, the warmth of his body grounding something deep inside me. I shift slightly, heart hammering with the words I need to say.
“I don’t want this to be just a moment,” I admit, barely above a breath.
His reply is immediate, steady—no hesitation. “It’s not. Not for me.”
I exhale, the tension in my body melting away as relief washes softly over me.
Slowly, I nestle back into Kade’s chest, finally feeling like I’ve found the safest place in the world.
Right here. Right now.
As sleep begins to pull me under, wrapped in his arms, nothing else matters.
Just this.
Just us.