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The silence stretches between us, thick and heavy, and all I can do is wait. Wait for him to break the quiet, wait for him to turn away. But he doesn’t. Instead, I feel his lips, soft and reverent, pressing a kiss against the first scar, then another and another, each one a silent pledge.
His movements are slow, as if he's trying to memorize every line, every curve of my body. My breath hitches when he reaches the lower scars, the ones that always seemed to hurt the most. But as his lips press against them, any lingering pain seems to evaporate, replaced with a warmth that seeps into my bones.
Then he's moving down, lower and lower until he's on his knees. His lips never leave my skin, each kiss a reminder of his acceptance, of his love. I can't help the tears that prick my eyes, overwhelmed by the tenderness of his actions. I've never felt so seen, so cherished.
He rises again, trailing kisses up my spine, until he's standing at his full height. I feel his strong hands on my shoulders, turning me around to face him. I meet his eyes, seeing my own vulnerability reflected back at me. But there's something else too—a fierce protectiveness that takes my breath away.
Without a word, he pulls me into his arms, his lips meeting mine in a searing kiss. It's a kiss that speaks of acceptance, of healing, of love. It's a kiss that says, 'I see you, all of you, and you are beautiful.' It's a kiss that I will remember for the rest of my life, a kiss that marks the beginning of something new, something beautiful.
His grip is gentle, yet firm, the surety in his hold a silent promise. He lays me down with a tenderness that sends a shiver through me, our bodies still flush against each other.
Eyes locked, he straightens, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. The sight of his bare chest, the lines and contours of his muscles glistening under the dim light, sends heat pooling low in my belly. I watch, breathless, as he unbuttons his jeans, letting them drop to the floor.
“Logan...” I squirm, doing everything to hold back a gasp. I hadn't quite been prepared for the sheer size of him, his impressive girth filling my hand as I reach out and run my thumb over the tip.
“Fuck.” He groans, the sound a low rumble in his chest as he throws his head back.
I bite my lip, eyes wide as I take in the sight of him, fully naked. My body responds instinctively, a shiver of anticipation running down my spine. “That… that’s not going to…”
Anticipating my reaction, he says, “It’ll fit.”
Okay, then.
I guess there’s worse ways to die.
Goodbye, World.
Naked, he crawls back onto the bed, hovering above me. His hands trace the outline of my body as he leans in, his lips pressing against mine. I can taste the promise in it, the passion, the raw desire.
My teeth nip the flesh on his shoulder just before he grips my hips and flips us over so I’m straddling him. I clench my thighs, feeling his erection between my legs.
What is he doing?
“You take control here. Now lift your hips for me.”
On instinct, I’m already doing it.
“Atta girl.”
The cry that comes from my throat is nothing short of animalistic as he sheaths himself inside me. The sting is quickly replaced with blinding heat. His large grip is still on my hips and guiding me every step of the way, but it doesn’t take long before I find my own rhythm.
“Good girl. Ride my cock. Take what’s yours.”
I still for a minute because I need to see him. He’s giving me back the control. He wants me to know that whatever happens tonight, the power is in my hands.
I lower to meet his lips as his hand skims my waist, and he whispers against my lips, “I might possess you in this bedroom, but you’ll always have the greater power over me.”
He kisses away the response on the tip of my tongue, meeting me thrust for thrust until my head is falling back and I’m crying his name from my lips again. I’m so close, the edges of my vision turn black.
“Fuck, baby. I can feel you coming. Come for me.”
With his words, the tension in my body unwinds, sending me spiraling until I’m sure I’m floating.
As my body shudders, riding the wave of pleasure, he grips my hips even tighter, his fingers pressing into my skin.
“That's my girl,” he grunts, his voice thick with desire. “The way you come around my cock... it's fucking perfect.”
He pulls me closer, burying his face in the crook of my neck. His breath comes in ragged, heated pants against my skin as I continue to move above him, my body still pulsing from the orgasm.
