Her body convulsed around me, her cry muffled against the pillow as she came, her walls pulsing around my cock. I groaned, my hips stuttering as I chased my own release. I was so fucking close; the pleasure coiling tight in my gut, my balls drawing up, my entire body tensed like a wire about to snap.
"Fuck, Ellery—" My voice broke, my thrusts turning erratic, my control shredding. I could feel it—the heat, the pressure, the way my body locked up as the orgasm crashed over me. I buried myself deep inside her, my cock pulsing as I came, my release spilling into her in hot, thick waves. My vision whited out for a second, my breath stolen, my body shaking with the force of it. I groaned, low and rough, my forehead dropping to her shoulder as I rode out the last waves, my hips jerking helplessly.
I stayed there, buried inside her, my breath ragged, my heart hammering against my ribs. I could feel her beneath me, her body still trembling, her breath coming in soft, uneven gasps. I pressed a kiss to the curve of her shoulder, my lips lingering against her skin.
"Fuck," I muttered, my voice hoarse. I pulled out slowly, my cock still half-hard, and rolled onto my back beside her. My chest heaved, my skin slick with sweat, my body spent in a way I hadn’t felt in years. I turned my head to look at her, her hair a mess, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed. She was beautiful. Mine.
She turned to face me, her eyes dark and dazed, a slow, satisfied smile curling her lips. I reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, my fingers trembling slightly. I couldn’t find the words. I didn’t need to. She leaned in, pressing her lips to mine, soft and slow, like she had all the time in the world.
And in that moment, she did.
The first light of dawn crept through the blinds, painting stripes across her bare skin. I lay there, watching her sleep—hair tangled across the pillow, lips slightly parted, the sheet barely covering her. My chest ached, something raw and unfamiliar twisting inside me.
Fuck.
I reached out, tracing the curve of her shoulder, the dip of her waist. She stirred, a soft sigh escaping her, but didn’t wake. My fingers followed the line of her collarbone, then lower, brushing the swell of her breast. She was warm, soft, alive in a way that made my pulse kick.
I couldn’t resist.
I leaned in, pressing my lips to the nape of her neck. She smelled like sex and something sweet, something that was just her. My mouth trailed lower, over her shoulder, down to the peak of her breast. Her nipple hardened under my tongue, and I took my time, savoring the way her breath hitched in her sleep.
She woke slowly, her body arching into mine before her eyes even opened. A sleepy moan escaped her, her fingers tangling in my hair. “Beckett?—”
“Shh,” I murmured against her skin, my hand sliding down her stomach, between her thighs. She was already wet, already ready for me. My cock throbbed, hard and heavy, but I didn’t rush. I wanted to feel her wake up around me, wanted to watch her eyes flutter open as I filled her.
I shifted over her, my body covering hers, my mouth finding hers in a slow, deep kiss. She tasted like last night—like warmth and need and something that felt dangerously close to mine. Her legs parted, her hips lifting to meet me as I slid inside her in one smooth thrust.
Fuck.
She gasped into my mouth; her nails digging into my back. I groaned, my hips rolling slow and deep, savoring the way she clenched around me. “You’re so fucking perfect,” I muttered against her lips, my voice rough with sleep and want. “Every damn inch of you.”
She whimpered, her body moving with mine, her hands sliding down to grip my ass, pulling me deeper. “More,” she breathed, her voice husky. “Harder.”
I chuckled, low and dark. “Greedy girl.” But I gave her what she wanted, my thrusts picking up, my cock driving into her with a rhythm that had her gasping, her body tightening around me. The bed creaked beneath us, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the quiet morning.
Her breath came in sharp, desperate gasps, her body coiling tight beneath mine. I could feel her getting closer, her muscles fluttering around me, her nails raking down my back. “Beckett—I’m?—”
“I know,” I groaned, my voice a rough whisper. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”
And she did.
Her back arched off the bed, her cry muffled against my shoulder as she came, her body pulsing around me. The feel of her, tight and hot and mine, sent me over the edge. I buried myself deep inside her, my release spilling into her in thick, hot spurts. My breath came in ragged gasps, my body shaking with the force of it.
I stayed there, buried inside her, my forehead pressed to hers, our breath mingling in the quiet morning light. She was still trembling, her body sensitive and warm beneath mine. I pressed a kiss to her lips, slow and soft, my hands tangling in her hair.
“Morning,” I murmured, my voice rough.
She smiled against my mouth, her eyes still dazed, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Morning.”
I rolled onto my back, pulling her with me, her body sprawled across mine. She fit there, like she was made to be there. My fingers traced lazy patterns on her skin, my mind already racing ahead to the road trip, to the weeks apart.
But for now, she was here.
The smell of coffee filled the apartment, soft and familiar, grounding me in a way nothing else did.
Ellery was still in the bedroom, half-asleep under the blanket. The sight of her there—hair mussed, sunlight catching on her bare shoulder—hit me harder than anything on the field ever had.
I leaned against the counter, waiting for the pot to finish brewing, and couldn’t stop smiling.
