Chapter 14
POV: Marina
I was in Brennan’s arms, his grip secure and unyielding as he carried me into his bathroom like I weighed nothing.
After everything we’d done last night, after everything he’d said, after the way he’d decided we were together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I had tried to fight him. I had tried to list every reason this was a terrible idea—age, hierarchy, gossip, consequences. I’d given him every exit.
He hadn’t taken a single one.
And after he told me I was his teenage crush, I even thought I was just a fuck to him. Something temporary. Something he would get out of his system.
But not Brennan. Not him.
He’s all in.
I gave him all the reasons to walk away, and instead, he made me breakfast, fed me, and now he was carrying me into his bathroom like I belonged here. Like I belonged to him.
I still think it’s not a good idea. But right now, I have no strength left to fight it.
So I decided to enjoy. To feel him. After all the hell I’ve been through, feeling something that isn’t grief or sadness—feeling alive again—feels intoxicating.
He put me down. I opened the shower box. He turned on the water and stepped in, pulling off his sweatpants.
I took my time enjoying the view of the monumental man in front of me—his dark hair getting soaked, water running down his chest, his shoulders, those perfect abs. My gaze dropped lower, and his cock was already hard, thick and heavy, reacting instantly to me.
His brown eyes met mine.
“You’re going to keep staring,” he murmured, voice low, “or are you going to come here?”
I slipped out of his shirt and stepped into the heat with him.
Brennan caged me against the tiles, one hand on each side of my head, his body solid, inescapable. His eyes were dark, intent, like I was something he’d claimed long ago.
“You belong with me,” he said, not asking, not teasing. Stating a fact.
Then he kissed me like he meant to carve that truth into my bones. The kiss was furious. Hot. Hard. Deep. He kissed me like he would consume me if he didn’t slow down.
His hands moved down my body, finding my hips. He lifted one of my thighs, exposing me completely to him. His other hand slid to my middle, his eyes never leaving mine as his fingers slipped between my legs.
He passed his fingers through my wetness and smirked.
“You’re already wet.”
“We’re in the shower,” I said, breathless.
“This has nothing to do with the shower.”
“It has everything to do with you,” I whispered.
His mouth curved, satisfied, as his focus shifted entirely to undoing me. The water roared, steam wrapped around us, and the world narrowed to his hands, his voice, the certainty in the way he held me like he wasn’t letting go. Ever.
He kissed me again, his fingers sliding inside me, his thumb pressing against my clit. The combination always wrecked me.
He kept kissing me, then his mouth moved lower—my jaw, my collarbone, my breasts. Then lower, and lower, until he dropped to his knees in front of me.
He licked and sucked, holding me open for him, his hands gripping my thighs. My fingers tangled in his wet hair as my hips started to move on their own.
He knew exactly what to do to make me lose my mind.
He kept going, relentless, possessive, devouring me like he needed it.
And then I came in his mouth—my hips twitching, my body shaking, my voice breaking into a mix of screams and moans.
I was coming down from the high when I saw Brennan climbing up to me. He was so tall I had to tilt my head back just to see him properly. He hooked a finger under my chin, lifting my face until my eyes met his.
Then he kissed me, slow and deep, making me taste myself on his tongue. The water around us created a hazy, intimate cocoon, my skin overly sensitive, every nerve exposed. I couldn’t think about anything else. I couldn’t think about anyone else.
His wet hair clung to his forehead, making him look even more devastating.
His hands slid down to my waist, then to my hips, firm and possessive.
“I’m going to take you properly now,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “I’m going to tell you what to do, and you’re going to obey. Okay?”
I nodded. It was the only thing I could do with this man.
He gripped my waist and pulled me up, instinctively.
“Wrap your legs around me, and take me,”
My legs wrapped around his hips without thinking, like my body already knew what to do. I felt his cock press against my entrance, and he lowered me slowly, deliberately, trusting me with every inch.
The stretch was delicious. Full. Complete.
I gasped, my head falling back.
“Yes,” he murmured. “Take me. Take all of me.”
He thrust upward, steady and deep, filling me until there was no space left between us.
“Look at me when you take me.” He said, and I obey.
My forehead dropped against his, our eyes level now, my body fully in his lap.
“Good girl. You’re perfect for me.”
He held me firmly, pushing me against the tiles for support, his hips moving relentlessly, each thrust calculated, controlled, designed to make me fall apart.
I could already feel another orgasm building—fast, intense, inevitable.
“Brennan,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
“Yes, my queen,” he replied without hesitation.
The devotion in his eyes was undeniable. Gentle, possessive, worshipful. He looked at me like I was something sacred and dangerous all at once.
“I—I’m going to come again,” I said, because he was hitting every perfect spot.
As if he knew exactly what I needed, he changed the angle of his hips, pressing deeper, slower, more precise. My mouth fell open.
“Yes,” he murmured against my lips. “Come with me.”
And I did.
I came squeezing around him, my body shattering, feeling him spill inside me, my body taking everything he gave me. He didn’t lower me. He stayed inside me, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths tangled.
I stared at him, overwhelmed.
“You can’t be real,” I said, the words coming from my body more than my mind.
He smiled, brushing his nose against mine.
“I am real,” he said softly. “And I am yours.”
I was already dressed when I realized how wrong it felt to be dressed in his apartment.
It was late morning, light pouring through his windows, that made everything feel like a memory while it was still happening. Brennan leaned against the kitchen counter, watching me smooth my dress like he was memorizing me.
“You don’t have to leave, our shift just starts in the afternoon,” he said.
The words weren’t a suggestion. They were a command wrapped in velvet.
I looked at him. “I do. I can’t stay in your apartment forever.”
He crossed the room in three steps, stopping so close my back hit the door. His hand settled on my waist, warm and heavy.
“You can,” he said quietly. “You just don’t want to.”
“That’s not—”
“It is.” His thumb traced the curve of my hip, slow, possessive. “You think wanting something makes it dangerous.”
I swallowed. He saw too much.
He studied my face for a moment, then exhaled like he was choosing mercy.
“Deal,” he said.
I blinked. “Deal?”
“One day.” His eyes were sharp, decisive. “Lazy day. Couch. Movies. Popcorn. You stay. You leave after.”
I hesitated. Domesticity terrified me more than chaos. But the image hit me straight in the chest—his couch, his space, me curled there like I belonged.
“You can say no,” he added, softer. “But you won’t.”
He was infuriating.
“And if I want to leave?” I didn′t but my brain was checking.
“Say the word,” he said instantly. “I take you home. No questions. Promise.”
His certainty made my heart twist.
“…Fine,” I whispered.
He smiled like he’d already won.
He turned his living room into something out of a soft, impossible fantasy. Pillows everywhere. A thick blanket draped across the couch. Bowls of popcorn and snacks lined up like he’d planned for a storm.
He pulled me down beside him and immediately tugged my legs across his lap like that was their natural place.
His hand never left me. Not once.
Sometimes it rested on my thigh. Sometimes my waist. Sometimes he absentmindedly traced circles on my knee while watching the movie like I was something grounding him to reality.
“You’re tense,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles against my cheek.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
He tilted my chin until I met his eyes. Commanding, gentle, impossible.
“Relax. You’re safe here.”
That word again.
Safe.
It scared me more than anything.
In the middle of the second movie, my phone buzzed.
Mom. Shit I forgot to tell.
“You didn’t got home…”