Chapter Thirty-Seven #2
This is different than before. Not the desperate urgency of our first time back together. This is slower. Deeper. I move inside her with long, measured strokes, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in.
She wraps her legs around my waist, eliminating all space between us. I lace our fingers together, pinning her hands above her head, and the new angle makes her moan and close her eyes.
"Look at me," I say softly.
Her lashes flutter open. Her gaze is hot with pleasure, pupils blown wide, but she doesn’t look away. I see everything in those eyes—desire, yes, but also trust. The kind I've never earned from anyone before. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it never fades.
I release one of her hands to cup her face. My thumb brushes over her cheek. It's wet.
"You okay?" I slow my movements.
"Yes." She turns her head to kiss my palm. "God, yes. It's just—this is—"
"I know." I kiss her, my hips keeping a slow, deep rhythm. "I feel it too."
We move together like we've done this a thousand times, like we've been learning each other for years instead of months. Every thrust, every breath, every touch is in perfect sync. Her free hand slides down my back, nails scraping lightly, and I shiver.
I change the angle, so I’m hitting her clit with each thrust. She tightens around me, her breathing coming faster. I read her and shift. She gasps.
"Right there," she breathes. "Don't stop."
I don't. I keep the same pace and she climbs higher. Her hand grips mine tighter, her body arching up to meet every thrust.
"Thorne," she gasps on an exhale. "I'm close."
"Let go," I tell her, keeping my rhythm as she needs it, my grip on her hand tightening. "I've got you."
Her climax hits and she cries out. Her whole body tenses, pulsing around me, pulling me deeper, pushing me over the edge. I follow her, burying myself deep as my orgasm tears through me.
For a few heartbeats, we're locked together. Her body clenching around me, mine emptying into her, both of us too far gone to do anything but feel.
After, I collapse beside her, pulling her into my arms. We're breathing hard, covered in sweat, completely undone.
The tent is dimmer now, the golden light giving way to softer amber tones as the sun drops lower. The only sound is our breathing slowly returning to normal and the distant rustle of wind through trees.
"Thorne?" Her voice is quiet, uncertain in a way that doesn't fit the woman who just rode my face like she was claiming territory.
"Yeah?"
“Do you think we can actually make this work?”
“Yes.”
“How can you be so certain?” She comes up, resting on her elbow. “We’ll have obstacles. My dad is going to have a hard time accepting a Blackstone.”
"I imagine my mother won't be thrilled either." I brush a strand of hair from her face. “And I’ll have to travel a lot for work.”
“I’m starting my own practice…” She kisses the corner of my mouth. “So where does the confidence in us come from?”
“Because I love you, Ivy.”
She sits up, the sheet falling to her waist. “Say it again.”
"I love you." I reach up, cup her face. "I'm still figuring out how to love you without trying to control everything. But make no mistake, I love you."
She blinks up at me, and even in the dim light I can see the shimmer of tears.
"You're not bad at it. You show me every time you ask instead of deciding for me.
Every time you tell me the truth instead of trying to protect me from it.
Every time you let me fight my own battles while you stand beside me instead of in front of me. "
"I spent years turning into my father without realizing it. Cold. Calculating. Using money and brute force to solve everything because actual vulnerability was weakness. You make me want to be better. Not for the legacy or the name, but for you. For us.”
"You're a Blackstone. Showing weakness isn't in the family handbook, yet you're worried about becoming your dad, which proves you're not like him. He never questioned himself. Never second-guessed a ruthless decision. You do, and that makes all the difference."
I look away.
"What?" she asks.
“The family name, the legacy.” I meet her eyes. “I spent my whole life thinking they defined me. That without them, I was nothing.”
"And now?"
"Now I know the truth." My thumb moves across her cheekbone. "Without you, I'm less. The Blackstone name doesn't make me worth anything. You do. The way you see me does."
She blinks, wet lashes catching the light. “You've always been worth everything. You just couldn't see it.”
I shrug. That one will take a little longer to believe.
“I knew before I'd even called Bill I was in the wrong, but I couldn't see past controlling the situation.” I swallow.
"There was another option the whole time.
Supporting you. Trusting you." I pause. "I'll make mistakes, but I won't make that one again.”
"How do I know that?"
Fair question. "Because the last six weeks damn near killed me. And I'd rather lose every argument with you for the rest of my life than lose you by winning one."
She smiles like a sunrise in the winter—slow and earned. "You mean that?”
"Every word." I pull her against me. "You terrify me, Ivy. The way I need you—it's not something I can manage or control. And I'm done trying to."
"I'm scared too." Her voice drops. "Every time things get hard, my first instinct is to run. To protect myself before I can get hurt."
"But you came back."
"I came back." Her fingers trace my jaw. "Because running from you hurt worse than staying and fighting. I love you, Thorne. Not despite who you are. Because of it. The stubborn, infuriating, brilliant man who's learning to ask instead of command."
"I'm still going to mess up."
"I know. So will I." She kisses me softly. "But we'll figure it out. Together."
"Together." The word sits between us like an oath. "I love you, Ivy West. My equal. My partner. Mine."