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A laugh dies in the back of my throat, quickly overridden by moans I can’t contain.
“Fine,” he snaps at my stubbornness, the promise in his voice making me shiver.
He’s going to give me what I want.
He carries me to the bed, dropping on top of me and slinging my leg over his shoulder for a deeper, almost surreal connection. I cry out when he picks up where we let off, ramming himself inside me with such passion that my bedframe hammers against the wall.
It barely takes a minute.
The parting of his lips.
The look on his face.
They suggest victory is near.
“Fuck,” he grits out, his teeth digging into my neck as he slams into me with rough, separate thrusts. One, two, three more pumps. Then he’s a goner. He plummets back down to earth in ripples, his shudders growing distant as he collapses on top of me, completely spent. I can feel his heart thundering like a machine gun. I give him a second before claiming my prize.
“So much for not knowing what to do in bed, huh?”
Still out of it, he pulls back, searching my eyes.
“Is that what this was? You trying to prove a point?”
“Yup,” I shamelessly admit.
He laughs and cups my face to kiss me, his tongue sliding past the seam of my mouth and between my teeth.
“Well, point made. Best fucking sex I’ve ever had. Hands down.” He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck. No words can possibly explain how happy his compliment makes me. He’s still deep inside me, but I don’t risk moving, hanging on to this fragile moment for as long as I possibly can.
“Willy?” I whisper, my heart in my throat.
“Yeah, baby?”
Milking every drop of courage in my body—that’s still trembling with aftershocks—I suck in a breath, squeeze my eyes shut,
and say them. The words I mean with all my being but have been terrified to say. The words that could change everything.
“I-I love you.”
His blue eyes grow in size, but he doesn’t reply. He simply scatters kisses across my collarbone, rolls off me, and tosses the condom. Then he slides back into bed to guide me into his opened arms.
I wait for him to say it back.
For him to say something.
But he never does.
Kassidy
The sound of my mattress squeaking and a deep curse pry me out of slumber. My eyes sealed shut, I wince at the foreign sensation between my legs. I’m sore.
Why on earth am I sor…
Will!
Peeling my eyes open a crack, I pat the right side of my bed, the tip of my fingers skimming across the empty space for a few seconds. Nothing—no one. He left? Anxiety slaps me awake, and I sit up straight, scanning my room through cloudy senses.
My shoulders flop when I find Will sitting on the edge of my bed, his jaw tight and his eyes riveted to his phone. Finishing a text, he drags a frustrated sigh and lobs his phone onto the mattress, the lean, defined muscles of his back twitching.
