"My turn," she whispers, and the husky quality of her voice sends electricity racing down my spine.
Her hand wraps around my cock, drawing out a sharp hiss through clenched teeth. Even more when she strokes me once, twice, before her thumb slides over the sensitive head to spread the wetness there.
"Mia."
If she keeps touching me like this, I won't last. Not after watching her come apart under my fingers, not after feeling her body trembling against mine.
She understands without me having to explain. A small, knowing smile curves her lips as she lifts higher on her knees, positioning herself above me. My hands find her hips, steadying her as she hovers there, the tip of my cock just barely brushing against her pussy.
Then with deliberate slowness, she sinks down onto me, taking me inside her in one fluid motion that steals the breath from my lungs. The sensation of her body engulfing mine scatters my thoughts like leaves in a storm. My fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips, anchoring myself to her as pleasure threatens to sweep me away entirely.
"Fuck," I groan, the word torn from somewhere deep in my chest. "You feel so good, baby."
She doesn't move right away, just sits there with me buried deep inside her. Her hands splay across my chest, nails digging slightly into my skin as she shifts her weight, sending sparks of sensation shooting up my spine.
When she finally moves, it's with torturously slow circles of her hips that make me grit my teeth against the urge to thrust up into her, to take control of the pace. But this is her moment, her way of connecting, and I force myself to relax beneath her, to let her set the rhythm.
My hands slide up from her hips to her waist, feeling the slight indentation there, the perfect curve that fits my palms like she was made for me. She leans forward slightly, changing the angle, and I thrust up to meet her, drawing a startled gasp from her throat.
"Yes," she hisses, her rhythm faltering for a moment before picking up speed. "Just like that."
I comply, matching her movements, our bodies finding a perfect synchronicity that feels like we've been doing this dance for years. The sounds she makes drive me wild—little gasps and moans that tell me exactly what she likes, what she needs.
Her movements become more erratic, more desperate, and she braces her hands more firmly on my chest. I can feel her thighs trembling against my sides, can see the tension building in the way her teeth catch her lower lip.
Without warning she takes my right hand from her waist and guides it up to her throat, placing my palm against the delicate column with unmistakable intent. Her eyes meet mine, clear and certain, silently asking for what she needs.
I don't hesitate, don't second-guess. My fingers curl around the sides of her neck, applying just enough pressure to restrict the blood flow slightly without cutting off her breathing. The effect is immediate—her pupils dilate further, her mouth falling open on a soft gasp as her inner muscles clench around me.
"Good girl," I murmur, watching her reactions carefully, adjusting the pressure in response to the smallest signals from her body. "That's it."
Her pace increases, desperation bleeding into her movements as she chases her pleasure. I can feel her pulse hammering beneath my fingers, and can see the flush spreading across her chest, rising to her cheeks. Her eyes are wide, locked on mine, showing me everything—trust, pleasure, need, all of it.
With my free hand, I reach between us, finding her clit with my thumb and circling it in time with her movements.
"Come for me," I command, increasing the pressure on her throat for a few seconds before easing off. "Let me feel you."
Her body goes rigid above me, back arching, head thrown back as pleasure crests through her. The sight of her coming undone, combined with the exquisite tightening of her body around my cock, triggers my own release. I thrust up hard into her, once,twice, and then I come with an intensity that whites out my vision for a moment. Pleasure so sharp it borders on pain washes through me in relentless waves.
Mia collapses onto my chest, her body still trembling with aftershocks. Releasing her throat, my hands slide to her back to hold her close as we both struggle to catch our breath.
"Holy shit," she mumbles against my neck.
She shifts slightly, but doesn't disconnect our bodies, seemingly content to stay joined like this. The intimacy of it makes my chest ache with emotions I'm not ready to examine too closely.
"Can we just stay like this for the rest of the day?" she asks.
"Whatever you need," I tell her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
What I don't say, what I barely allow myself to think, is that I'd happily stay like this for the rest of my life—connected to her, holding her, feeling her breath against my skin and her heart beating in time with mine. The thought should terrify me, should send me running for the emotional barriers I've spent years constructing.
Instead, I pull her closer, breathe her in, and let myself feel everything.
Chapter 35
Mia
Istay collapsed on Sebastian's chest, his release warm between my thighs as it begins to trickle out. My breath slows against his neck, and I feel utterly boneless, like every muscle has liquefied in the afterglow. His heartbeat pounds beneath my ear, gradually slowing from its frantic pace to something steadier, more hypnotic. I could stay like this forever, melted against him, nothing between us but skin and sweat and the magnitude of what I feel for him.
