16. Chapter Sixteen #2
I grip her hips, fingers digging into the soft curve of her skin hard enough to leave impressions.
“Look at me,” I breathe, sweat dripping from my brow, clenching hard on my molars.
Her eyes flutter open.
“I can feel you stretching around me,” I say, voice rough. “Tell me when you can take more.”
Her lips part.
“More,” she whispers immediately. “I want more.”
There’s still a flicker of nerves in her expression, that instinct to brace, but she holds my gaze.
So I give her more.
Slow at first. Deeper.
Watching every reaction cross her face.
She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls herself closer, needing our bodies to be flush together.
The angle changes.
Her head falls back.
The sound she makes is sinful.
“That’s it,” I growl, tightening my grip on her. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?”
She nods frantically.
“Words.”
“Yes,” she gasps. “Yes.”
I move her steadily now, lifting and lowering her in a rhythm that makes her breath break apart. My thighs burn from the position, but I couldn’t care less. The way she reacts, the way her body responds to mine, is worth every ache.
“You’re going to come for me again,” I tell her firmly. “I’m not stopping until you do.”
“Yes, fuck yes. Tate I feel like those are the only words I can say” She giggles between gasp and moan.
I slide my hands down to her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, mixed with her moans, raw and unfiltered.
I bite gently at her shoulder, and she answers by dragging her nails down my back.
My control slips.
My movements turn rougher. Deeper. Bottoming out fully with each thrust. The sound alone nearly pushes me over the edge.
My hand fists into her hair, tugging her head back just enough to expose the line of her throat. I drag my mouth along it, sucking marks into her skin.
“Look at you,” I murmur against her ear. “Taking me so well.”
Her body tightens suddenly, that subtle shift that tells me she’s right there.
And then she breaks.
She shatters around me, trembling, soaking me, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she comes undone.
The sight nearly ends me.
“Good girl,” I whisper, breath ragged. “So damn good.”
I lay her back carefully when my legs start to give out, hovering over her while she tries to catch her breath.
“Let me,” she says suddenly, a new spark in her eyes.
Before I can respond, she pushes at my shoulders, guiding me back until I’m sitting against the headboard.
She climbs into my lap, slow and deliberate, reaching between us to guide me back inside her.
“Shit,” I groan as she lowers herself down, taking me fully. “You feel that? How tight you are around me?”
Her eyes roll back at my words.
She starts to move, slow at first, rolling her hips in a way that makes my head fall back against the wall. I grip her waist, watching her take control for once.
Her body moves with confidence now. No hesitation.
My mouth finds her chest again, sucking one peaked nipple into my mouth while my hands roam over her back.
Her rhythm falters slightly.
She’s close.
“Come with me,” she breathes.
I thrust upward to meet her, snapping my hips into hers just as her body tightens again. The way she clenches around me pushes me straight over the edge with her.
We fall apart together.
Her forehead falls against mine.
Our breathing fills the room, heavy, uneven, slowly coming back down from something that felt like it could’ve burned the place to the ground.
For a moment, neither of us moves.
When we finally do come down from it, from the heat, the intensity, the way our bodies collided like something inevitable, the room shifts.
Not silent.
Just softer.
I brace myself on my forearms so I don’t crush her, pressing my forehead to hers. Her skin is flushed, damp with sweat. Her lips are swollen from my mouth. Her curls are wild across the pillow.
She looks wrecked.
Perfect.
And fucking mine.
Her body is still trembling when I feel myself begin to soften inside her.
I breathe her in once more, steadying myself before I move.
Carefully, I pull out of her, watching her face for even the smallest flicker of discomfort. My thumb brushes along her cheek, pushing a curl back from her face.
“You good?” I murmur.
She nods, dazed.
I wait a beat.
“Use your words,” I say gently, teasing but firm.
A sleepy smile curves her mouth. “I’m more than okay.”
Relief hits my chest harder than I expect.
I lean down and press a soft kiss to her lips before sitting back to take care of the condom. I remove it carefully, tie it off, and toss it into the small trash can beside her dresser. No hesitation. No awkwardness. Just done.
When I look back at her, she’s still spread across the sheets, chest rising slower now, the fire in her eyes replaced with something softer.
She shifts slightly, and I catch the small wince she tries to hide.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her quietly.
She makes a questioning sound, but I’m already heading toward the bathroom. I grab a washcloth and run it under warm water, testing it against my wrist until it’s just right.
When I come back, she’s watching me.
Not guarded.
Just… surprised.
I kneel between her thighs again, but there’s no hunger in me now. Just focus.
“I’ve got you,” I say, my voice steady.
I clean her slowly, deliberately. The warmth makes her exhale softly. My free hand rests on her thigh, thumb tracing absent patterns to keep her grounded.
“You don’t have to do that,” she murmurs.
“I know,” I reply easily. “I want to.”
Because this part matters too.
Not just the taking.
The care after.
When I’m done, I toss the cloth into the hamper and climb back into bed, pulling the blanket up around us. I guide her into my chest, tucking her against me like she belongs there.
And she fits there too easily.
My hand slides up and down her back in slow, grounding strokes. Not sexual. Just steady.
“You’re not fragile,” I murmur into her hair. “But I’m still going to take care of you.”
She curls closer.
“I don’t need saving,” she whispers.
“I know,” I say. “Good thing that’s not what I’m trying to do.”
She tilts her head back to look at me, something vulnerable flickering in her eyes.
“You make me feel…” She hesitates. Swallows. “Safe. And I don’t like how much I like that.”
I cup her jaw gently, brushing my thumb beneath her eye.
“You don’t have to be alone with me,” I tell her. “Not in any of it.”
Her breath shudders, and she hides her face against my chest.
A minute passes before instinct kicks in.
“I should check my phone,” she murmurs.
“Check it,” I say immediately.
She reaches for the nightstand and unlocks it. I watch her carefully as she reads the screen.
“132. Steady,” she exhales, relief softening her entire body.
I kiss her shoulder. “Good.”
She sets the phone down and turns back into me.
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
“For what?”
“For not making me feel guilty about being a mom.”
That lands deeper than anything else tonight.
I brush my fingers down her spine again. “Rowen is part of you. I’m not competing with him. I want to be a part of both of your lives.”
She studies me for a long moment.
“You’re dangerous,” she says softly.
I smirk faintly. “Why’s that?”
“Because I think you mean everything you say.”
This time, I don’t make a joke, my gaze settling on her.
“I do.”
Silence settles again, but it’s warm. Comfortable. Heavy in the best way.
Her breathing evens out first.
I stay awake longer, memorizing the way she fits against me. The way her curls spill over my arm. The faint marks on her skin that I’ll kiss in the morning.
For the first time in a long time… This doesn’t feel like just sex.
It feels like something is building.
When she shifts in her sleep and instinctively curls closer, I tighten my arm around her.
Not possessive.
Protective.
Like she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.