I kiss him again. Dominic grips the back of my thigh, opening me wider as his cock drives deeper.
“Harder.”
He gives me what I ask for. Every thrust presses the base of him against my clit, building the pleasure until my body trembles beneath his.
“You don’t get to use me to forget this conversation,” he says.
“I’m not trying to forget.”
“Then tell me what you need.”
The full truth crowds behind my teeth.
“I need to remember that you wanted me.” The words are a quiet confession. “I need a memory strong enough to survive whatever comes tomorrow.”
Dominic’s jaw tightens. He drives into me so deeply my breath breaks.
“I’ve never stopped wanting you.” He pulls back and thrusts again. “I want you when you challenge every decision I make. I want you when you’re afraid. I want you when you call me because you can’t admit you miss me and then make me argue for the privilege of staying.”
A sob catches in my throat.
“I want the woman who built a spreadsheet because she was afraid to ask for a home with me.” His pace turns rough and uneven.
“I want every night after this one, Elena. Remember that.”
My own hands, tangled in his hair, tighten into fists.
“I want you too.”
He goes still inside me.
I hold his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. “I want you. It was never only sex or conception. I’m sorry I kept making you feel like it was.”
His eyes close. Pain pulls at his mouth.
When he moves again, the first thrust is slow.
“I believe you,” he says.
Relief and grief hit at the same time.
His hand slides between our bodies. His thumb circles my clit, and I tighten around him.
“But wanting me tonight doesn’t answer what happens tomorrow.”
“I know.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “I can’t keep being wanted in pieces.”
“I know.”
The pressure of his thumb increases. Pleasure gathers too fast, sharpened by everything waiting on the other side of it.
“I’m close.”
“I can feel it.” His voice drops. “Come for me.”
I shake my head because I don’t want this part to end.