Page 47

I sighed. Let it spill.

“I sacrificed a lot for this career. Family. Time. A real shot at love.

I think people forget women like me want softness too. I want to be touched. Desired. I want pleasure without performance. But I rarely let myself have it.”

He didn’t speak.

Just listened.

Andthat—that gaze? That stillness? Thatpresence? It unraveled me more than any tongue.

“I wasn’t planning on sleeping with you again,” I whispered. “But my body didn’t ask for permission.”

“Neither did mine.”

He kissed me again. Reverent. Then he laid me down—right there on the rug in front of the speakers.

The city outside didn’t matter. Not tonight. He kissed every inch of me. My mouth. My throat. My breasts. My thighs.

Bit my shoulder when I whispered his name.

Licked my clit until my legs trembled again.

Then finally—finally—he slid inside. Thick. Deep.

One slow thrust that felt like he was filling me with truth.

He didn’t pound. Hepressed.

Body to body. Soul to soul.

He fucked me with his eyes locked on mine, his voice in my ear.

“This pussy mine now?”

I moaned. Nodded.

“Say it.”

“It’s yours.”

“Say it again.”

“Fuck, Taraj. It’s yours.”

His hand slid under my ass. He lifted me to meet every thrust.

His mouth found mine again—wet, messy, hungry.

And I told him through moans, through breath, through touch—I want you.

I need this.

I need you.

When I came, it was a quake—low and long, dragging me under.

When he followed, he wrapped me in both arms, groaning against my neck like he couldn’t let go of me.