Chapter 20 #2
I slide my hand between her thighs and find her soaked.
I stroke along her slit, spreading the wetness before pressing two fingers inside her pussy while my thumb circles her clit.
She spreads her legs wider and grips the pillow above her head.
Her breathing breaks into short, sharp inhales, and I watch her face in the dim light while I work her toward the edge, curling my fingers forward until she lifts her hips off the mattress.
“Adrian…” She says my name like a confession. “I need you.”
I hesitate because the man who was watching her today is still out there, and I’m about to lose myself in her.
The vulnerability of this moment, with both of us stripped and exposed in a house surrounded by guards because the world outside wants to take her from me, makes me grip her hip harder than I intend to.
She reads the hesitation and pulls me down by the back of my neck. “Stay here. Stay with me, in this moment.”
I withdraw my hand and position myself between her legs, which she splays to welcome me.
I guide my cock to her channel to push inside her with one steady thrust, and her pussy takes me in.
She’s slick and familiar in a way that makes me ache with more than just desire, pulling a groan from me that I don’t suppress.
She wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me deeper until I’m buried completely, and we hold still for a moment, connected and breathing against each other’s mouths.
I start to move with slow, deep strokes that let me feel every inch of her, and she matches my rhythm by lifting her hips to meet each thrust. I brace myself on one arm and use the other to tilt up her chin so I can see her face.
Her lips are parted, her eyelids are half-closed, and she’s looking at me with an openness I’ve earned through every mistake I’ve made and every correction she’s demanded.
“Don’t stop looking at me,” she says.
I don’t. I hold her stare as the pace increases, her breath gets ragged, and her grip tightens on my shoulders.
I reach between us and press my thumb against her clit, making her pussy clench around my cock hard enough to blur my vision.
She’s close, and the tension building in her body mirrors what’s building in mine.
“Harder.” She digs her nails into my back, and the sting of it sharpens everything. I thrust deeper, angling my hips to hit the spot that makes her back arch, and she gasps and grips the sheets with one hand while the other claws at my shoulder.
She comes with a cry that she muffles against my shoulder, arching her body under me as her inner walls grip my cock vigorously enough that I have to stop moving to keep from finishing.
I give her a moment to ride it out before I start again, harder now, chasing my own release while her sheath still pulses around me.
I come inside her with a low, raw sound, stripped of every defense I usually maintain. She holds me through it with her arms locked around my neck, and her forehead against my temple. Neither of us moves for a while after.
Finally, I roll to the side and pull her against me.
She rests her head on my chest, and I keep one arm around her while placing my other hand on her stomach.
We lie in the dark with the dock lights shifting patterns across the ceiling and the water sounds filling the silence as I let myself believe the future I described to her tonight is possible.
“I owe you a correction.” She says it to my collarbone. “About the argument.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“I do, and I’m going to give it to you, so stop being noble.” She shifts her head to look at me. “You didn’t sound like Eric when you talked about vetting my campus. You sounded terrified of losing something you just found, and I should have heard that instead of hearing the past.”
The words reach a place I’ve been guarding since the night she closed the bedroom door, and I pull her closer. “You never have to apologize for protecting yourself.”
“I know, but there’s a difference between protecting myself and punishing you for someone else’s crimes. I crossed that line, and I’m telling you I see it.”
“You still protect yourself, and that means you’re paying attention. I’d rather you stay sharp than stay comfortable.” I press my lips against her forehead. “At least until the danger passes.”
She smiles softly. “After?”
“After, you can be as comfortable as you want, as much as a set of twins will allow. I’ll make the espresso at that point. We’ll probably be living on caffeine.”
She laughs against my chest, and the sound vibrates through me. I hold her tighter and close my eyes.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. Part of me wants to ignore it, but with the danger ever present, I can’t afford that luxury, so I reach for it with my free hand and read the screen.
Viktor: Sketch artist confirmed for tomorrow at 10. Grigor identified the sedan from today’s surveillance. Registered to a shell company linked to Karpov’s port operations. Still no confirmation whether Hayes is connected or operating independently.
I set the phone face down and pull Aurora closer.
She’s already half-asleep, and her breathing deepens against my skin.
The sedan ties the watcher to Karpov, but it doesn’t tell me if Eric fed Karpov her location or if two separate threats are converging on the same target by coincidence.
Coincidence is a word I stopped trusting years ago.