Page 49

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I wake up tangled in Ryan’s arms, his warmth surrounding me like a cocoon. His steady, even breaths tickle my hair, and for the first time in days, I feel truly rested. It’s not just sleep—I feel peace . Being with him just feels… right. No matter what’s happened between us, I can’t deny this connection.

I love him. I really, truly do.

Annika might not understand how I could take him back so easily. Hell, if I were in her shoes, I’d probably say the same thing. But right now? Lying here, wrapped in him, his strong arms holding me like I’m the most precious thing in his world… it’s enough for me. The chaos of UXW, the stress of everything else—it doesn’t exist. Not here. Not in this moment. My focus is entirely on him. On us .

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on his face. His dark hair is splayed across the pillow, the slight wave making it look effortlessly perfect. I can’t help but trace my fingers along his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths, the softness of his skin stretched over solid muscle.

He stirs, eyelids fluttering open, and when his molten brown eyes lock onto mine, a slow, lazy smile spreads across his lips. God, that smile—it’s devastating.

“Morning, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. He pulls me closer, pressing a tender kiss to the top of my head.

I melt into him, savoring the moment. “Morning,” I whisper back, my fingers drawing idle patterns on his chest.

He shifts slightly, resting his chin on top of my head. “I want to wake up to you every morning,” he says softly, his words hitting me like a freight train.

My heart leaps out of my chest. I kiss his cheek, my lips lingering there. “I’d like that too,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

We lay there for a while, the silence between us comfortable, intimate. My fingers continue their exploration, gliding over his skin, memorizing every dip, every ridge. I want this man so badly. I need him. And the fact that he wants me, too? It’s everything. I can’t lose him again.

A ripple of fear courses through me at the thought, but I push it aside. I refuse to let fear control me. I have to live in the moment— this moment. I have to trust him, and he has to trust me.

After a while, Ryan shifts, propping himself up on one elbow. “Shower?” he asks, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

I grin, biting my bottom lip. “Lead the way.”

The warm water cascades over us, steam curling in thick ribbons around the large glass enclosure. Ryan’s hands are everywhere—sliding over my skin, lathering soap in slow, deliberate strokes, mapping every inch of me like he’s committing me to memory. His touch is both firm and reverent, a stark contrast to the raw hunger in his eyes.

I return the favor, my palms gliding over the hard planes of his chest, feeling the steady, powerful beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. His broad shoulders, the deep ridges of his back, the carved muscles that flex beneath my touch—he’s strength, solid and unshaken, like nothing in the world could break him. Like he could carry both of our burdens without a moment’s hesitation.

We take our time, letting the moment stretch between us, every touch, every lingering kiss steeped in meaning. There’s no urgency, no rush—just the quiet, unspoken understanding that this is something more. That this is us finding our way back.

By the time we step out of the shower, my heart is hammering against my ribs, my skin tingling, still warm from his hands, his mouth, his relentless devotion.

As I wrap a towel around myself, my gaze flickers to the nightstand. My phone screen lights up, Annika’s name flashing alongside a string of missed calls and unread messages. Guilt seeps in—she’s been my anchor, my unwavering constant through all of this, and I know she’s worried.

With a sigh, I grab the phone and quickly type out a message. I’m okay. I promise. I’ll call you later. It’s not enough, but right now, I can’t pull myself away from this moment.

I set the phone aside and turn back to Ryan, finding his molten gaze already locked on me. My pulse quickens as he reaches for me, pulling me against him, his body still damp, radiating heat.

This time is ours. No distractions. No outside world.

Just us .

We have breakfast outside in the lush backyard, the early sun spilling golden light over us, warming our skin. The space is breathtaking—perfectly manicured lawns stretching toward the water, a massive swimming pool with a wraparound deck, and a waterfall cascading into the blue depths, its soft trickle blending with the distant sound of the waves. It’s the kind of place that feels untouched by reality, like a stolen moment in paradise.

Ryan sits across from me, his bare chest catching the sunlight, muscles flexing subtly as he sips his coffee. He looks at peace, more relaxed than I’ve seen him in weeks. But beneath it, I know the fire still burns—the drive, the hunger, the part of him that won’t rest until he’s on top again.

I set my fork down, hesitating before finally speaking. Now or never.

“You should’ve won,” I say, watching him carefully.

His brows lift, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “You watched?”

I nod, holding his gaze. “Of course I did. I always do.”

Something shifts in his expression—something warm, something unreadable. Then, slowly, a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, teasing but full of something deeper.

“I’ll get another chance,” he says, his voice thick with certainty. “And this time, I’ll have you there with me. This time, it’ll count.”

He leans forward, his elbows resting on the table, his eyes dark and intent as they lock onto mine. “But right now?” His voice drops to a low, intimate rumble, the kind that makes my pulse stutter. “All I care about is this. Being here. With you. I want every second to be about us .”

His fingers graze mine across the table, sending a shiver up my spine. The world fades away, leaving only the warmth of the sun, the crash of the waves, and the man in front of me—unstoppable, unshaken, and completely mine.

Later, we change into swimsuits, and Ryan scoops me up effortlessly, carrying me toward the pool. I laugh, the sound light and carefree, and wrap my arms around his neck. The water is warm, soothing against my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat building between us.

I can feel him, hard against me, and a soft moan escapes my lips before I can stop it. Ryan doesn’t miss a thing. His eyes darken, a low growl rumbling from his throat.

“You’re killing me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

I let my hands drift down, massaging him through his swim trunks, and he tilts his head back, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips. “Fuck, Natalie,” he groans. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

He grabs my hand, leading me toward the waterfall. The water cascades down in a shimmering curtain, creating a secluded, intimate space behind it. The sound of the water is deafening, but it only adds to the intensity.

Ryan unties the strings of my bikini top, letting the pink fabric fall into the water. His eyes devour me, his hands sliding up my body to cup my breasts. His thumbs brush over my hardened nipples, and he groans, leaning down to take one into his mouth.

I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he flicks his tongue over my sensitive skin. He gives the same attention to the other, his teeth grazing lightly, sending shivers down my spine.

“Ryan,” I breathe, my voice trembling with need. “I want you.”

He looks up at me, his eyes blazing. “Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me how bad you need me.”

“I want you to fuck me under this waterfall,” I say, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart.

His jaw tightens, his restraint hanging by a thread. He lifts me effortlessly, laying me back on one of the smooth, flat rocks. The cool surface contrasts with the heat of his body as he climbs up, positioning himself between my legs.

He hooks a finger under my bikini bottoms, sliding them off slowly, teasing me. The sound of the waterfall, the beauty of everything around us—it’s overwhelming.

Ryan tugs off his own swim trunks, tossing them aside. His cock stands thick and hard, and my mouth waters at the sight. I want to taste him, but the way he’s looking at me—like he’s about to devour me whole—I know he has other plans.

“Fuck, I need to taste you again,” he growls, lowering himself between my thighs. His beard brushes against my sensitive skin, and I shiver under his touch.

When his tongue finally meets me, I’m lost. His slow, deliberate strokes build the pressure with each pass, his groans vibrating against me. My body trembles, my moans echoing around us as he drives me closer to the edge.

“Ryan,” I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Please, I need you inside me.”

He teases me for a moment longer, his tongue working magic, before finally rising to his knees. He lines himself up, his eyes locked onto mine. Slowly, he thrusts into me, and I nearly lose my breath at the sheer perfection of it.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “You feel incredible.”

His pace is steady at first, each thrust deep and measured, but soon, the urgency builds. His hands grip my hips, pulling me closer, deeper, and our bodies move in perfect sync. His eyes never leave mine, the intensity in them making me feel seen, cherished, loved.

“I’m yours,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the waterfall.

“And I’m yours,” he replies, his thrusts deepening. “Always.”

As we come undone together, I know with absolute certainty— this is all I need.