Page 53

She straddles me slowly, deliberately—one knee, then the other, caging me in with her body.

She hovers, careful not to press against my chest, but I feel her everywhere.

She’s above me now, and fuck, the view—the hunger in her eyes, the faint curve of her belly rising with every ragged breath, those beautifully swelling breasts.

She’s trembling with need, and it’s all for me.

“Let me,” she whispers, catching my hand as I reach for her. “Let me take care of you.”

I nod, sinking into the pillows, offering myself up to her without resistance. She’s earned this moment—after all the nights she’s stayed by my side, watching over me, worrying, holding me together when I couldn’t. If anyone deserves to take control, it’s her.

Her hands begin a slow, reverent journey—gliding over my shoulders, down my arms, across my chest. She leaves trails of fire everywhere. She reawakens nerves, gets my blood boiling, my heart racing.

In her hands, I don’t just feel alive—I feel worshipped.

And the sight of her. God, the sight. Her beautiful hair, falling down her shoulders, covering her breasts. A goddess. That’s what she is in this moment.

“I missed this,” she murmurs, leaning down to press soft kisses along my collarbone. “I missed touching you without worrying I might hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me, dolcezza . Not like this.”

She lifts her head to meet my eyes. “Only like this?”

“Oh, darling,” I confirm, my hands coming up to cup her face. “Never again like that.”

The unspoken understanding between us sparks like a live wire.

Then her lips are on mine again—deeper, hungrier—her body pressing in close, careful but desperate, like she’s fighting the same storm I am.

She moans into my mouth, and I reach for her waist, digging marks into her soft skin.

She begins to grind against me, and I feel her hand reach between us, pull down those shorts she has on, her panties following next.

And when she sits back down on me, god, I feel her soaked against my cock. I throb, I writhe, I need.

“Aria,” I breathe, my hands gripping her thighs.

“I know,” she whispers against my mouth. “I know, love.”

She guides herself to hover over my cock, pausing for just a moment to pull back and meet my eyes. The anticipation is enough to bring me to the edge in that suspended instant.

I glide my hands up her thighs, cradle her ass in my palms, try to pull her down, to tell her what I want.

But I don’t push. This is all her.

Then she sinks onto me. Slow. Torturous. Like she wants to feel every inch of the journey to bliss.

I slide into her heat, and the sensation hits like a detonation—tight, wet, silk over steel. Her body takes me inch by inch, stretching to fit, and I feel her tremble around me, a gasp escaping her lips as her head tips back, her inner walls fluttering around me in ways that make my vision blur.

“ Dio ,” I breathe, my head falling back against the pillows. “I’ve missed this. Missed you.”

She begins to move, and my breath stutters at how she moves. Lethal. Graceful. She worships and ruins me with her pussy, all at once.

Her thighs flex on either side of me, strong and soft, and I watch her body ride mine, hips rolling in slow, deliberate waves that make my breath hitch. Her breasts bounce with every motion, flushed and perfect, her stomach tensing as she builds a rhythm around the ache we’ve both been carrying.

She braces herself on my shoulders, careful of my chest, and rides me harder, her body moving in a way that I never want to forget.

My hands grip her ass, holding so damn tight because she’s my anchor to the world. My damnation and salvation. And watching her like this? It’s already more than I can handle.

This is different from every other time we’ve been together. There’s no desperation, no attempt to possess. This is simply love—pure and honest and healing.

“God,” I groan, voice hoarse. “I forgot how good this feels—with you .”

She opens her eyes—dark, hungry—and rides me harder, faster, her hands braced on my shoulders. But her body? Her body gives me everything.

And I take it. Every last aching, beautiful second of her.

She moves like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me—rolling her body like a tide she’s trying to outrun. Every roll of her hips, every clench of her inner muscles around my cock, drives me closer to the edge I’m barely holding.

My jaw clenches. My abs twitch. Sweat beads at my temple, and I hold her harder. I don’t dare let go. She’s too beautiful like this—hair sticking to her neck, lips parted, flushed all over as she rides me like I’m hers to ruin.

“Jesus, baby,” I grit out, eyes glued to where our bodies meet, to the way she takes me so deep I feel it in my spine. “You’re killing me.”

She leans forward slightly, shifting the angle, and my whole body tenses. Her breasts brush my chin, swaying with every motion, and I have to fight the instinct to thrust up into her.

Her breath stutters. Her nails dig into my shoulders. She’s close—I can feel it in the way her movements start to falter, just a little, like she’s trying to keep control but losing it, too.

My vision narrows. My pulse pounds.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper, voice breaking. “Just like that. I’m?—”

She slams down one last time, her body trembling, muscles clenching around me. She lets out a raw and desperate strangled cry as she shatters above me, head thrown back, hair wild, her spine arching in a perfect bow.

A scream tears from her throat, high and unrestrained, just as her inner walls flutter and clamp, ripping through my self-control.

I lose it.

My orgasm detonates, white-hot and all-consuming. My cock throbs deep inside her, spilling into that tight, trembling heat as my hips jerk up once, twice, uselessly chasing more friction.

“Fuck, Aria…” I groan her name, every muscle locked tight as wave after wave crashes through me.

She collapses against me, breath hitching, skin slick with sweat, still pulsing around me as aftershocks ripple through her. Her thighs shake. Her fingers grip my arms like anchors. Her lips brush my throat, open and panting.

We’re a mess of limbs and gasps and heat, tangled in a climax that feels like it’s still echoing through both of us.

I don’t know where I end and she begins.

And I never want to know.

She shifts off me, and we sink into each other with care, breathless and spent. I take her into my arms, against the side of my chest that’s uninjured, and her body molds to mine. Our breathing slowly returns to normal, and she looks up at me with those gorgeous, wonderful eyes.

“I love you,” she whispers against my neck.

“I love you, too,” I reply, my arms tightening around her. “Always have. Always will.”

We lie there in comfortable silence, skin cooling, bodies still joined, and I realize something has fundamentally shifted between us.

The war is over—not because one of us won, but because we finally chose each other over everything else.

There’s no winning in love—only choosing. And this time, we finally chose right.