She dozes off at some point. I don't. I lie there with her curled against me, her hand over my heart, and I watch the ceiling and feel the hours passing.
March is close. March means decisions. March means acceptance letters and phone calls and the beginning of the rest of her life.
You don't ask her to stay.
Rome is right. I know he's right. I'm not going to be theman who holds her back. I would rather miss her for the rest of my life than be the reason she missed herself.
She stirs a moment later, shifting against me. Her face presses into my neck and she makes a small sound, half asleep, reaching for me even in dreams.
I pull her closer, and press my lips to her hair. Her eyes open, unfocused and heavy with sleep. She moves her hand down my abs, seeking.
"I need you."
Her voice is raw, barely a whisper. Her words have already made me hard, but I will not hurt her.
"No. You're too sore."
She presses closer, her mouth finding my ear, my neck, the hollow of my throat.
"I need you, Callahan."
"Lily."
I catch her wrist gently. "Baby, no. Your body needs rest."
Her eyes in the early morning light are glassy and gone, in a place I recognize. She's deep in that space she goes to when I've taken her past thinking, past planning, past everything, but feeling.
It's the most vulnerable she ever is and the most sacred thing I've ever been trusted with.
"You said you would reduce me to this." Her voice cracks.
"To needing you and only you. You said that. You promised. And you have."
Her fingers curl on my chest. "You did exactly what you said you'd do to me. And now you deny me?"
I love her. I love her. And I will not deny her.
I push her gently onto her back and she goes easy, her body responding to my hands like it knows no other way.
I move between her thighs and press them open, not asking, and take stock of the damage I've done.
She's wrecked. Her pussy is swollen and red and soaked, the inside of her thighs slick from hours of use.
She should be completely off-limits. But the sight of her like this, ruined, destroyed, still wanting more, makes me throb.
"Look at the state of you."
She whimpers and tries to close her thighs, but I don't let her. I press them back open with my palms, holding her spread, making her stay there while I look my fill.
"You took everything I gave you." I drag one finger slowly through her, barely touching, just enough to feel how swollen she is, how completely used. If I can use her again.
She jolts like I've burned her.
"Every single thing I had. And you're still wet for me?"
"Oh, Callahan…"
"This." I press the pad of my thumb against her clit, barely a graze, and she chokes on a sound.
