Page 54 of Trade It All

I walk toward him, my knees still a little weak from the taste of him, but my heart is steady.

"Come here, Baby," he murmurs, his voice a low, vibrating friction that makes my skin prickle.

I don’t hesitate. I move between his spread legs, my hands finding his shoulders for balance as I lift my legs to straddle him. The heat radiating off him is staggering, a living wall of fire.

"Look at me," he commands, his hands coming up to rest on my waist. His grip is massive—holding me steady, but not forcing me down. "Tell me what you see."

"I see you," I whisper, my breath hitching as I lower myself slowly. I can feel him at the entrance, thick and ready—and the anticipation is a physical ache in my chest. "I only see you, Dean."

"Good." He lets out a pained, guttural groan as I finally sink down, taking all of him in one long, sliding breath. My eyesflutter shut, my head falling back as the fullness of him stretches me, filling every hollow space I had left.

"Eyes on me, Maddie. Don't hide."

I snap my eyes open, locking onto his hooded, dark gaze. He’s not moving yet. He’s waiting, his hands firm on my hips, while I adjust to the length of him.

"You're in control," he reminds me, his voice a dark, steady promise. "You move when you're ready. You take what you need. I'm just here to make sure you get it."

I start to move, a slow, tentative grind that has me gasping for air. Every time I lift and drop, the friction sends a jolt through me that makes my toes curl into the fabric of the chair. Dean’s hands stay on my hips, his thumbs digging slightly into the bone, guiding my rhythm but letting me set the pace.

"That's it," he rasps, his head falling back against the top of the chair, his throat a long, corded line of tension. "Take it, Baby.”

I sob, my pace getting more frantic as I feel the pressure building, that tight, electric coil winding up in my stomach. "I'm yours."

"Yeah, you are," he growls, his hands finally leaving my hips to find my hair, pulling my head down so he can kiss me—deep, hard, and possessive. His hips bucking upward to meet my descent. "Are we still good, Baby? You still with me?"

"Yes," I cry out, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my body vibrating with a release that starts in my toes and crashes through my heart. "Yes, Dean. Please."

He doesn't stop. He keeps the rhythm steady, his eyes never leaving mine as I come apart on top of him, his presence the only thing keeping me from shattering into a million pieces.

The quiet in Addy and Luka’s house feels different.

Not like Dean’s place.

Not like my apartment.

This kind of quiet is… lived in. Warm. Familiar in a way that settles into my chest the second I step inside, even though my mind is still trying to catch up with everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.

Dean didn’t stay.

He followed me all the way here, his headlights steady in my rearview the entire drive, close enough that I never felt alone but far enough that he wasn’t crowding me. And when I pulled into the driveway, he didn’t even hesitate. Just waited long enough to see me get out of the car—and then he was gone.

Like he trusted I was where I needed to be. Like he knew I’d be okay here.

The front door had barely opened before Addy was there.

No questions. No hesitation.

Just her hand wrapping around mine, warm and firm, pulling me inside like she needed to physically confirm I was in one piece before anything else.

“Maddie—” she started, her voice already tight with worry.

“I’m okay,” I told her quickly, even though I wasn’t sure what that meant anymore.

She didn’t argue. Didn’t slow down.

She just tightened her grip on my hand and started walking, dragging me through the house like she had a destination in mind and nothing was going to stop her from getting me there.

Past the kitchen. Down the hall. Into one of the spare rooms.