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I nodded, unable to speak as I picked up my pace again. I knew Tristan liked it rough, and thank fuck for cardio training that let me keep this up, but goddamn was it hard not to come after the day I’d had. Tristan’s smirk told me he knew it, too.

I lifted one of his legs to my shoulder, thinking of mushrooms for the millionth time because I nearly lost it, and leaned over him until I was hitting his prostate with every thrust. And finally, gloriously, he started gasping. “Yes, Daddy, yes, just like that. Please, Daddy, please don’t stop. I need . . . I’m gonna . . .”

His pleading had me on edge, and my balls started tightening as I slammed into him, praying for him to get there before I did. Just as I was about to explode inside him, Tristan screamed, and his untouched cock let loose, spraying cum on both of our stomachs. Not a second later, I was yelling out my own release, filling his ass just like he’d said I could.

And fuck, it went on forever. I’d never had an orgasm so strong, so insistent before, and I almost blacked out as the cum poured out of me. Even as my Angel Baby collapsed beneath me, I slid in and out of him languidly, his channel sucking every last drop from my cock.

Nothing would ever be better than this. Tristan was made for me in more ways than one. We had issues, sure, and we were both going to go to therapy to help ourselves heal. But my heart understood his, and the cord I’d felt pulling me toward him in his absence was now expanding, fusing into an unbreakable cable made of passion, desire, hope, and love.

God help me, but I loved him.

I just hoped he would give himself the chance to love me back.

Chapter thirty-two

Tristan

Istared up into Henry’s eyes as he came down from what I imagined was probably the best orgasm of his life, and in that moment, I knew he loved me. I couldn’t explain it, but I saw the love in his eyes, and it stole my breath.

What if he said it now? What if I couldn’t say it back?

Did I love Henry? Maybe, though even the thought terrified me. Besides, wasn’t it too soon for that? Love didn’t work on a prescribed timetable; I knew that. But surely it was too soon to know . . . right?

Henry’s hand reached for some hair that had stuck to my forehead and tucked it behind my ear as he smiled down at me. Now that we’d both orgasmed, I could feel the soreness settling into my ass. He wasn’t small, and he’d damn near fisted me. I had asked him to, but still.

Shit, the man fucked like a god. If that was the only measure of love, I’d say no one had ever loved anyone more.

I knew it wasn’t. And even if I was starting to love him, I couldn’t say it, not yet. I needed time to process, to think. And I probably needed to talk it out with someone before I could say for certain.

My heart had burned me before. I first thought of Chad, of course. It was young love, and we were just kids figuring things out, but it had left its scars. But as I thought about it, my parents had really caused my first heartbreak. Wasn’t that where most trauma came from anyway? That’s what I’d read online when I’d gone down a rabbit hole after I’d booked my first therapy appointment.

My dad had been present physically but absent in every way that counted. Every time he chose a TV show over walking me to the neighborhood park or his various projects over taking me to a movie, my heart broke, and little Tristan came to think that since he wasn’t good enough for his parents to love, he wasn’t lovable. Add in my mom’s preoccupation with her own social life, her near disdain for me and the things I liked, and my battered heart had been broken enough times to decide love wasn’t for me.

That I wasn’t worth it.

But with Henry . . . I almost believed it could be true. I almost believed I was worth being loved by someone as amazing as him. And the way he was still looking at me now after the most unbelievable sex I’d ever had, I knew, down in my soul, that he truly loved me.

Me.

Tristan fucking Applegate.

Why, I didn’t know, but I would need to find a way to accept it. Because as he leaned in for a tender kiss that brought tears to my eyes then pulled out so he could get some cloths to wipe us off, I knew I was off the hook tonight, but it wouldn’t take long for Henry to want to speak his truth. And I didn’t want to lose him because I was scared to admit how I felt.

I just couldn’t at this exact moment.

Henry walked back into the room with two washcloths, one of which he was already using to clean his softening dick as he made his way over to the bed. Tossing the used one on the nightstand behind my head, he leaned over me and cleaned off my stomach then swiped between my cheeks. But the man had a load, and I could still feel it trickling out of me, probably making a mess of his comforter.

I should’ve put a towel down hours ago.

Henry smiled when he saw me looking between my legs and offered me his hand. “Come on, let’s get a shower together then go to bed. I’ve got a backup blanket we can use for tonight, then we’ll wash the comforter in the morning. I don’t know about you, but after today, I’m exhausted.”

I nodded, letting him pull me to my feet and into the bathroom.

***

I spent the rest of the weekend at Henry’s, but this time felt different than before. We talked in all our free time—Henry had to cover a shift for an employee who’d called out on Sunday afternoon, but he was back by seven—and got to know each other more than just in the bedroom. There was still plenty of that, too, but after our edging marathon, our sex was more making love, which tied my heart even closer to his. I could feel our bond growing, and with every word spoken or look shared between us, I knew I was heading down a path I would never come back from.

And I was starting to believe I would be okay with that.