I position myself at her entrance and push in, barely an inch. She tenses, her breath catching sharply.
I freeze. “Right here with you. We can stop.”
“No… just… stay close.”
I lower my forehead to hers, one hand cradling the back of her head. “I’m not going anywhere, Sophie. You’re safe.”
After a few breaths, she relaxes. “More.”
I give her another inch, then another, moving so slowly it tests every bit of control I have. She’s impossibly tight, hot, perfect. When I’m finally all the way inside her, I hold still, letting her adjust, my chest pressed to hers.
“You’re doing so good,” I whisper against her temple. “So perfect.”
She exhales a shaky laugh and rocks her hips experimentally. Pleasure flashes across her face. “Logan… move.”
We find a steady rhythm. Her nails dig into my back, and her legs wrap tighter around me.
I slide a hand between us and circle her clit with my thumb. “Right here?”
“Don’t stop… please…”
She tightens around me, crying out as she comes again. The feel of her pulsing around me snaps what’s left of my control. I bury my face in her neck and follow her over, groaning her name against her skin.
As our breaths settle, I kiss her hair, her temple, and her shoulder. Then I ease out of her carefully, dispose of the condom, and come back with a warm washcloth. She lets me clean her, quiet and trusting, even though she rarely allows anyone to take care of her.
When I slide back under the quilt and pull her against my chest, she tucks her face into my neck.
I stroke her hair. “How are you?”
“That was… everything.” Her voice is soft, full of awe.
“For me too.”
She falls asleep first, breathing slow and even against my skin, smelling like vanilla and sex and home. I stay awake long after, just feeling her there, my heart fuller than it has ever been.
Mine.And one day soon, I’ll tell her.
eight
. . .
Sophie
I wake,my body sore in unfamiliar ways. It’s a good feeling, and I’m glad I waited for Logan. I blink open my eyes. I don’t have to look far to see him. He’s right next to me. Naked like I am but asleep, one arm loosely over my waist as if even in sleep, he’s keeping me close.
Satisfaction fills me. I want today to be the first of many mornings waking up next to him like this: tangled sheets, his scent on me, and the certainty I’m safe.
Outside, it’s still dark. We never shut the curtains last night. His bedroom faces east. The darkness is no longer black, but not gray yet. I take in the quiet, letting the peace of the morning settle over me.
The tree line is a dark shape against the predawn sky. I lie still, not wanting to disturb Logan, and take inventory.
I’ve done this every morning since that night in the alley. I catalogue the room, the sounds, and the distance to the nearest door. I never unlearned the habit, even after returning to Lush Hollow.
But this morning, the inventory is different.
So am I.
Logan’s sheets smell like pine and cedar. His body heat warms me better than the quilt over us. The steady rise and fall of his chest against my back feels like an anchor I didn’t know I needed.
