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She lowers herself onto me, her walls gripping me tight, and I groan, my hands gripping her hips. “Ride me,” I command, my voice rough, demanding. She obeys, her movements frantic, her breasts bouncing in my face. I can’t help myself. I reach up again, squeezing, tugging, my mouth finding her nipple once more.
She’s breathless, clinging to me like she’s afraid to let go. Her hips move faster, harder, and I meet her thrust for thrust, my hands guiding her, urging her on. The couch creaks beneath us, the sound drowned out by our ragged breaths and the wet slap of our bodies meeting.
“Zzz…Zasha,” she cries out, her voice breaking as her walls tighten around me. I’m right there with her, my release building, unstoppable. I grip her hips, holding her still as I thrust up into her, deep, relentless. She screams my name, her body shaking as she comes apart on top of me. I follow, my orgasm tearing through me, as I pour myself into her.
We collapse in a heap, breathless, sweat-slicked, but not yet sated. I lift her, cradling her in my arms as I carry her to the bedroom. She’s still trembling, her eyes glazed with pleasure, and I’m not done with her. Not by a long shot.
I lay her down on the bed, her hair fanning out across the pillow. She’s beautiful, always beautiful, but right now, she’s mine, flushed and wanton, and I’m going to worship her like she deserves.
I kiss my way down her body, slow this time, deliberate. My lips trace the curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts, the dip of her navel.
She moans, as she pulls my lips back to hers. Her hips arching off the bed as I finally enter her again. My cock slips into her, slow and deep, filling her completely.
“Zasha,” she whispers, her voice thick with need. I look up, our eyes meeting, and I thrust into her, steady and relentless. “Tell me,” I demand, my voice hoarse. “Tell me what you’ve been dying to say.”
She bites her lip, her eyes flickering with something I can’t read. “Later,” she pants, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Please, just—”
I silence her with a kiss, my lips crushing against hers as I move inside her, slow and deep, making love to her like I’ve missed her, like I’ll never let her go.
The room is filled with the sound of our moans, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm. I’m lost in her, in the feel of her, the taste of her, the scent of her. And when we both shatter again, it’s not just our bodies that come together, but our hearts, our souls.
As I collapse beside her, her head on my chest, her hand tracing patterns on my skin, I know there’s something she’s been holding back. But for now, it can wait. For now, we’re here, together, and that’s all that matters.
She falls asleep before I do.
Curled up against me, her cheek pressed to my chest, one hand still resting over my ribs like she’s afraid I’ll vanish.
I lie there for a while, just watching the soft rise and fall of her back, the warm sweep of her breath against my skin. There’s a strange peace to it—like this is how things were always meant to be, and we’re just now catching up.
Eventually, I slip out of bed.
I lean over her and brush my knuckles over her shoulder. “Shower?”
She murmurs something sleepy and sweet, eyes barely cracking open. “You go ahead. I’ll wait.”
I hesitate for a second, then nod. “I won’t be long.”
The hot water stings in a good way. I stand under the spray longer than I mean to, grounding myself, letting the tension melt out of my shoulders.
Because tonight... tonight is the night. And everything is going to be picture perfect when I tell her how I feel.
I towel off, dragging the fabric roughly over my hair, and pull on a dark shirt, sleeves pushed up to my elbows. As I step out of the bathroom, I spot her sitting up in bed, brushing her fingers lightly through her hair. She looks beautiful—messy and flushed, like she’s still half-lost in our earlier haze.
I cross the room and walk past her slowly, smirking like it’s any other evening. Like I haven’t been rehearsing the words I want to say in my head for days.
“Don’t cook,” I tell her, voice low. “Just get dressed. I’m taking you out tonight.”
Her eyes lift to mine, and I catch the flicker of hesitation before she masks it.
She plasters on a smile—too fast. “Okay. Sounds nice.”
But it’s not the answer I expected. Not the warm, teasing smile. Not the sparkle, instead, her answer sounds careful.
Like she’s hiding something.
I pause, watching her a beat longer.
“Everything okay?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.