“Levi, fuck. I’m right there…” he gasps, body locking up as he thrusts once, twice more, then spills into me with a strangled moan, cock pulsing deep as he fills me up.
His shadows surge the way that they do, holding me down while he pours so deep inside of me it feels like I’ll never stop shaking. I moan at the heat of it. The stretch of him. The fullness. His forehead drops to mine, and I feel his whole body tremble above me as he rides it out, breathing my name like a prayer and a curse all at once.
Hayden plants kisses at my temple between ragged breaths, his cock still pulsing deep as his shadows coil tight around my legs and chest. I canfeelit…the way he’s still twitching inside me. The way his cum spreads warm and thick.
And god, I love the way it feels.
The slow, heavy throb that settles low and deep. I feel owned.Marked. Wrecked in the best way, like I was made to carry this part of him. He’s still inside me, his body trembling, his breath catching against my neck. And all I can think, achingly and shamelessly, is:Don’t pull out.
Let me stay full. Of this. Of him. Of this moment…just a little longer.
Eventually, the shadows soften. They slip away like smoke, satisfied, curling back into the corners of the room as Hayden wraps his arms around me. Our breaths slow. Our bodies stay tangled. The sheets are warm, a rumpled mess beneath us.
I trace a slow path down his spine, fingers ghosting over the ridges of muscle, the curve of his shoulder. He shivers. Not from the cold or from fear.
From this.
From us.
For a man who’s spent lifetimes holding back, he’s shattered now. And Iloveit. The weight of him against me. The way he’s stopped trying to rebuild the walls right away. I press a kiss to his temple. Then to his cheek. Then lower, to the slope of his jaw, his neck. He groans, tilting his head back, exposing more of himself, like he wants me to keep going.
“Levi,” he breathes, my name catching in his throat like a prayer.
I think I could spend eternity learning the way he says it.
• • •
The crash joltsme awake.
For a second, I think about ignoring it. Assuring myself it’s just Seby knocking something off the counter in his ongoing campaign for attention. I burrow deeper into Hayden’s arms, willing the noise to be a tomorrow problem. Probably just the apartment settling or some other benign, nonthreatening thing that will let mekeep living in this perfect little bubble. Hell, I’d even settle for one of those spirits Hayden is always prattling on about.
But then it happens again.
A rustling. A clatter. A muffled laugh.
DefinitelynotSeby.
Hayden is still dead asleep beside me, soft and warm, but his shadows aren’t. They flicker and twitch at the edges of the room, restless, like they sense something I don’t.
Shit.
Carefully, I slip out of bed, searching the room for something that could be used as a weapon. Hayden’s apartment is filled with little trinkets and knickknacks, which means my options are surprisingly plentiful, but none of them are exactly battle ready.
I need something. Anything,
My eyes land on the first thing I can grab. A coffee table book stacked neatly on his dresser. I pick it up, tilting its cover in the dim light. It’s calledThe World’s Most Beautiful Bridges.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
And of course this had to happen after the mind-blowing night we had.
Messy and consuming and good. The kind of good that rewrites you from the inside out. We’d fallen asleep tangled together, his shadows cocooned around me like I belonged to them. Woken up hours later just to reach for each other again. By the time we finally collapsed, I’d been sure I’d never sleep so well in my life.
Which makes me want to curse at whoever…orwhatever…is in Hayden’s kitchen. Because they’ve just ruined the best morning-after of my existence and now I’m armed with the least threatening object imaginable.
I creep toward the kitchen, heart pounding, ready to bludgeon someone with architectural knowledge. One corner, one ambush, and I’m ready to launch.
But then I freeze.
