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She does, and I see everything. Need. Trust. Something deeper that hits me in the goddamn solar plexus.
Her pussy clamps around my cock, and she gasps, voice shaking. “Don’t stop. Please, Jay, don’t ever stop.”
I lock my arm around her. “Not going anywhere, baby.” The words come out rough, barely more than a growl, my jaw clenched as I fight to hang on. I can’t let her go. Not for a second. I reach down between us and circle her clit, my thumb slick and insistent, and she breaks apart right underneath me. Her head kicks back on the pillow, mouth falling open as that low, desperate moan rips out of her. It’s the hottest sound I’ve ever heard, pure need, pure surrender. The second she comes, it’s electric.
“Jay!” she gasps, hips bucking up, gripping me so tight she’s got me in a chokehold. Her pussy clenches around my cock in greedy waves, like she’s trying to take every last drop.
That’s it. I lose every shred of control. I slam into her, coming so deep inside her it’s like she’s pulling my soul right out of my body.
We collapse together, spent and shaking, both of us panting for air, like we just ran a goddamn marathon. I keep her close, arms caging her in, refusing to let her drift even an inch away. She shudders, eyelids fluttering, breath catching in soft little aftershocks, and all I want is to feel her wrapped around me forever.
For a while, neither of us moves. Her body is limp against mine, face pressed into my neck, breaths shuddering. I kiss her hair, her cheek, the tip of her nose, every patch of skin I can reach. She tastes like salt and sugar, the best fucking drug I’ve ever had.
We lie like that for a long time, Salty snoring in the window, the room bathed in morning light. Nadia fits into me, soft and solid, and I realize my entire life has been a holding pattern waiting for this exact moment.
I want to say something, but words are thin compared to the way she makes me feel. So, I just hold her, content for the first time in my life.
Nadia finally looks up at me, hair a mess, lips swollen, eyes fierce. “What are you thinking?” she asks.
“That I’m the luckiest man in the world,” I say, and for once, it’s not a line. It’s the truth, bare and raw and unstoppable.
She smiles, slow and secret. “I think I could get used to this,” she says.
“Good,” I reply. “Because you’re never getting away from me.” I say it light, but I mean it with every beat of my heart.