He slips his hand between
us, fingers finding my clit, circling with perfect pressure. “Come for me,
Maya. Let me feel you.”
That’s it.
I shatter around him, clenching
tight, pulsing, crying out his name as wave after wave crashes through me. He
fucks me through it, relentless, drawing it out until I’m trembling and
oversensitive and still rocking against him because I can’t stop.
When the aftershocks
finally ease, he flips us careful of his shoulder until I’m under him on the
couch. He hooks one of my legs over his good arm, spreads me wider, and thrusts
deep, hard, chasing his own release now.
“Look at me,” he rasps.
I do. Our eyes lock as he
drives into me again and again, faster, rougher until his rhythm stutters and
his jaw clenches. “Maya.” My name sounds so good from him.
He comes with a broken
groan, burying himself as deep as he can, pulsing hot inside me. His forehead
drops to mine, breaths mingling, bodies slick with sweat.
We stay like that for long
minutes, tangled, wrecked, hearts hammering in tandem.
Finally he kisses me, soft
this time, almost tender. “Still think this is stupid?”
I laugh, breathless,
wrecked. “Yeah. But I’m keeping you anyway.”
He smiles against my
mouth. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”
And just like that, two
disasters decide to try being something better together.
The next few weeks are strange and wonderful and terrifying.
