Page 75 of The Beast

Something cracks open in his expression. “Izzy.”

“Yeah.” I pull him down to me. “Now stop talking and fuck me.”

He does.

But not fast. Not rough. He slides into me inch by devastating inch, watching my face the whole time, drinking in every gasp and moan like he’s dying of thirst and I’m water. When he’s all the way inside, he goes still.

“I missed this.” His voice is wrecked. “Missed you. Every single day.”

“Show me.”

He moves then—long, deep strokes that hit places I’d forgotten existed. His mouth finds mine, swallowing my cries. His hands are everywhere, touching, claiming, worshipping.

We build together, slow and steady, a fire that burns rather than explodes. I feel another orgasm coiling in my core, and from the way his rhythm falters, he’s close too.

“Together,” I whisper. “Please.”

“Always.” He drives deeper, harder, and I shatter around him just as he groans my name and follows me over the edge.

Afterward, we lie tangled together, sweat-slicked and breathing hard. His hand traces lazy patterns on my hip. My head rests on his chest, right over his heartbeat.

“Day one,” he murmurs.

I smile against his skin. “Day one.”

It’s a beginning. And right now, with his arms around me and his heart beating under my ear, it feels like it’s enough.