His other hand grips the curve of my ass, pulling me down harder onto him every time I sink. When I lean forward, he catches my breast with his mouth instead, his thumb never leaving my clit, and the pressure above and below knots into one.
And thepossessivenessof it…
“Rowan—”
“I’ve got you,” he says against my mouth, “you feel so fucking good.”
The sound I make is half laugh, half sob because it’s too sweet and too filthy in the same breath, and then the moan takes over when he thrusts up harder. Nothing eases — not his mouth, not his thumb, not the hand hauling me down onto him — and I ride the edge.
“Look at me,” he says.
I do.
I flatten my palms on his chest, take the rhythm back, and ride it exactly how I need — and I come with my eyes on his, clenching so hard around his cock that his rhythm breaks, and I feel the moment he loses it.
The stutter in his hips.
The catch in his throat.
The rhythm on my clit faltering.
He finishes deep inside me with his forehead against my collarbone and both of us shaking. And then we stay like that. I don’t move. He doesn’t move. His breath is loud against my neck and mine against his ear and his heart is hammering under my palm.
“Hey,” he says, eventually, against my skin.
“Don’t move.”
“Wasn’t planning to.”
I press my face into his neck, a little bit laughing and a little bit crying, too, though I don’t know where one ends and the other begins. Then his arms come up and he holds me. And in that moment, something I’ve been clenching for over a year just… lets go.
“You’re thinking,” he murmurs.
“A little.”
“Good thinking, or?—”
“Good.” I press my mouth to his shoulder. “Good thinking.”
“Okay.”
act 2
thirteen
ROWAN
It’sthe kind of Saturday that empties the dorms.
As we step out of Ridgeview, Sloane tips her face up to the sun. She’s in the same clothes as yesterday — the sweater and jeans she wore to my place — plus a jacket she stole from the hook by my door.
“You don’t need that.” I nod at the jacket.
She bumps her shoulder against mine, falling into step. “If someone sees me leaving your building without a coat, they’ll know I stayed the night because it was cold yesterday. But a coat means I could be coming from a meeting or a study group…”
“A study group,” I echo. “At ten on a Saturday morning.”
“Ambitious students exist, Rowan.”
