My legs lock around his waist, pulling him closer. I rock my hips, desperate for friction, until a low, feral growl rumbles from his chest, and I’m pressed against the door.
“You’re playing dirty,” he rasps, easing my feet to the floor.
His mouth trails down my neck as his fingers make quick work of my sleep shirt and bra, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. Unshaved legs and messy hair no longer matter. All that matters is the look on his face, complete and totalreverence. I grasp the back of his shirt between his shoulder blades, and pull it over his head. My nails dig into the thick muscle.
“You are… everything,” he breathes.
I moan as he kisses lower, worshipping his way down. He drops to his knees, hands sliding down my waist, pausing at my hips.
“You know how long I’ve dreamed of this?”
“Tell me,” I whisper, trembling.
“Since the night you called me out by the fire pit,” he confesses, with a sinful grin. He traces the seams of my underwear, fingers brushing my wetness. “I wanted to drop to my knees right then, to make you scream my name so loud that the entire forest would know I belonged to you. And you to me.”
He hooks his fingers under the waistband and slides them down, inch by inch. Taking his time to look at me before dipping his head to drag his tongue through my folds. His eyes close, savoring the moment. Mine never leave him.
“Oh, and Sydney…” He lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, letting anticipation build. “Remember there’s a toddler on the other side of the door.”
What follows is exquisite torture. Him bringing me to the edge only to pull back, ignoring my pleas, and maintaining a leisurely pace. He takes his time learning what drives me insane, four years of wanting condensed into every kiss, every touch. When I finally feel a thick, rough finger slip inside me, my body careens over the edge.
I cry out his name before biting my lip as waves of pleasure roll through me, each one coaxed carefully by his attentive touch. Bringing me pleasure isn’t a step toward his own release; it’s an act of devotion in itself. And I immediately want him to feel the same way.
Kneeling to meet him, I rake my fingers through his hair, tugging gently to bring his mouth to meet mine, tasting the evidence of my pleasure on his lips. My hand runs down his chest and finds its way beneath his waistband, the smooth, hot skin and firm weight of him in my palm. His breath catches. A sharp, breathless sound that sends a pulse of satisfaction through me. I stroke him slowly at first, savoring the heat, every noise he makes as I tighten my grip and learn what he likes.
“Darling,” he grits out, voice frayed and wrecked. “Keep that up, and I’m going to lose it all over your hand.”
“That’s the idea, my dear.” I stroke him harder.
And when he does, it’s not a moan but a rupture, pulled from the hollow of his gut. His eyes are still dazed as he pulls me tight against him, his fingers finding their way back between my thighs.
“James…” I trail off, utterly consumed as he tips me into another release.
We collapse on the bathroom floor, tangled and shaking, foreheads pressed together, breath coming in uneven bursts. The stone floor is unforgiving against our knees, but neither of us cares.
“I’ll never get enough of you,” he murmurs, a slow, satisfied smile curving his lips.
“Good, because I’m not going anywhere.”
“I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t remember what it felt like not to.”
A tear slips down my cheek, and his thumb is already there, brushing it away.
“I love you too,” I whisper, saying the words out loud for the first time, every syllable a release of all the feelings I’ve swallowed for too long.
“Say it again.”
I press my hands flat over his heart. “I love you, James Navarro.”
We stay there, foreheads resting together, suspended in this moment—not a fantasy anymore, just us, finally saying everything.
He slowly pulls away and begins redressing me, smiling as he holds my underwear out for me to step into. He lifts my sleep shirt over my arms and shoulders, rebuttoning it with soft kisses between each button—navel, ribs, between my breasts, collarbone, mouth. I clean him up with a warm cloth. He groans, presses a kiss to my shoulder, and wraps me in his arms.
Anna’s soft breathing from her cot fills the quiet space as we sneak out of the bathroom. James stands in the darkness, struggling to pull himself away. I decide for both of us, my fingers finding his.
“Stay.”
It’s reckless, but I’m so damn tired of being without him. I feel him wrestling with the same conflicted thoughts, his fingers tightening around mine, wavering between what we should do and what we both want. He slips under the sheets and pulls me flush against his chest. His warmth seeps into my skin as I tuck myself into the curve of his body.
