Page 45 of Trust Fund Baby

“I’m good, too,” I told her, pulling her even closer to me. “I got tested recently and haven’t been with anyone since. But are you sure?”

“I swear, Sebastian,” Roxie nearly growled. “If I have to repeat myself again …”

“Okay, okay,” I let out a soft chuckle.

She was wild and beautiful as she hovered above me, every movement stealing the air from my lungs. I grasped at her hips and pulled her down on top of me. Slowly, gently, I thrust the full length of my cock into her.

“You’re—” I swallowed hard, my chest heaving. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Her breath hitched again, eyes darkening with every word I said. I swore I’d never forget the sight of her like this, on top of me and all around me all at once.

Those beautiful lips curved like she did know what she did to me, and she was reveling in it.

Her hips shifted as she took control, finding a rhythm that made my vision blur. Each slow roll of her body threatened to send me over the edge.

And as I let myself sink into the ecstasy of the moment, of her, I realized a truth I’d tried so damn hard to forget over the years we’d been apart.

She was mine, and I’d never stopped wanting her. And I probably never would.

I gripped her waist, trying to hold her still, trying to keep control, but she only smiled down at me. “Don’t you dare,” she whispered, her voice breaking on a gasp as she sank down harder, deeper. “Don’t you dare hold us back.”

The words were like lightning through my body. I dragged my hands over her thighs, her ass, up her spine, urging her to move faster, needing her everywhere at once. My mouth found the curve of her breast again, teeth grazing. The cry that ripped out of her had me thrusting up into her with everything I’d been holding back.

“Sebastian,” she moaned, and hearing her say my name like that shattered the last of my restraint.

We moved together like we were trying to make up for every lost moment, every night spent apart. Her nails carved into my skin, anchoring me as I thrust deeper, harder, desperate to burn through this desire, this passion I felt for her until there was nothing left but the sound of our ragged breaths and the frantic pounding of our hearts.

She tipped her head back, hair wild, lips parted, giving me a perfect view of her perfect body. I caught myself wondering once again if this was all a dream. Except it wasn’t. She was here. With me.

Her movements grew quicker, sloppier. Her body clenched around me, but I was desperate to hold on. I wanted her to finish first, to make sure I gave her everything she wanted before I allowed myself to tip over the edge.

And with a final cry of my name, she came apart. Her body shuddered around me. Her mouth found my shoulder, teeth grazing skin as she clung to me, and I allowed myself to let go.

When it was over, she collapsed against my chest, both of us breathing hard, our hearts pounding. I buried my face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume and letting the world come back in fragments.

We laid there, tangled limbs and sweat-slicked skin. Her cheek rested against my chest, and I could feel her heartbeat slowly settle. My fingers traced soft, lazy lines down the length of her spine, over the delicate dip of her back, over the curve of her hips. She shifted just enough to press a kiss to my skin.

The record had spun into static, but neither of us moved to fix it. The crashing of waves outside filled the silence between us, and for the first time in years, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

With her.

16

Roxie

The crooning voice of Stevie Nicks floated from the record player, filling the room as I woke.

The boathouse was bathed in the soft golden light of morning. I stayed perfectly still. A deep, all-encompassing ache settled into my limbs from the complete unraveling I had the night before.

And then I reached for him.

But my hand landed on a cool blanket and emptiness.

I blinked, then with a stretch, slowly sat up. Rumpled couch cushions and a lingering beer bottle were all that remained on the coffee table. The space where he had been was now empty. The small bathroom was quiet, and there was no sound of his voice coming from outside the boathouse door. No shift of weight from the chair across the room.

Just … nothing.

I rose swiftly. The blanket from the couch was still warm from our bodies as it slid down my lap. My heart hammered against my ribs in a frantic drumbeat I hadn’t felt in ages. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced since the day I sat in front of my grandfather, and my life was destroyed.