“Win—fuck—”
“Good?”
“Too good. I’m going to—if you keep—”
I let go, and he makes a sound of protest that borders on pain.
“Not yet,” I tell him. “I want you inside me when you come.”
His eyes go dark. Then I’m on my back, the mattress soft beneath me, his body covering mine.
“My turn,” he growls.
He’s gentle—so gentle—even with the desperation radiating off him. His hands shake as he removes the rest of my clothes, reverent and careful. He looks at me like I’m a revelation.
“Win.” My name sounds like a prayer on his lips. “God, Win. You’re—I don’t have words.”
His hands map my body the way I mapped his, learning every curve, every dip. His fingers trail fire across my skin. When he finally touches me where I need him most, I cry out, my back arching.
“Like that?” he asks, his voice rough.
“Yes—Yes—don’t stop—”
He works me with patient, devastating precision, and when I finally shatter, he holds me through it, murmuring my name like it’s his favorite word.
Then he reaches for the nightstand, rolls on protection, and positions himself. Our eyes meet.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He pushes in slowly, and I gasp at the stretch. He’s a lot. But it’s good—so good—the delicious fullness, the overwhelming sensation of being completely joined with him like this. “You okay?” His voice is strained.
“More than okay.” I wrap my legs around him. “More.”
“Yes, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a soft, low whisper, his eyes heavy-lidded.
Hemoves slowly at first, then faster, harder. The sensation overwhelms me. Each thrust drives us higher. I hold on to his shoulders, his back—anywhere I can reach—and when we finally fall over the edge together, it’s with his name on my lips and mine on his.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, catching our breath. His hand traces lazy patterns on my back. My fingers find his other hand and lift it to my lips.
I kiss his knuckles again—the bruised, scarred knuckles that have seen so many fights. I hate all the pain that made him who he is. But I love the man he is.
“I love you,” he says quietly, as if testing the words.
“I love you too.”
“Stay tonight?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
His arms tighten around me, and I close my eyes.
For the first time in weeks, neither of us is scared.
We fall asleep tangled together, and it’s perfect.
Chapter Thirty-Two
