Page 33 of His To Unravel (His & Hers Duet #1)

“You’re so beautiful,” I grit out. “Look at how well you take me, baby.”

“You’re so deep like this,” she sobs, one hand trailing down her body and between her thighs to stroke her clit.

My hands grip her ankles tighter as I watch her touch herself. She looks like a goddess—emerald eyes bright on mine, cheeks flushed, nipples plump and swollen from her ministrations, fingers moving determinedly over her clit.

Her gaze never strays from mine and I can’t look away. I’m completely under her spell.

No one has ever compared to her—no one has ever even come close.

Every inch of her is perfection, and I’m her most devoted worshiper, kneeling at the altar of her body, offering myself up in endless, insatiable reverence.

I drive into her harder, my thrusts losing rhythm, desperate now, needing her to fall apart for me.

And she does.

She’s climaxing with a cry, her legs shaking beneath me, her pussy pulsing around my cock.

I want to hang on. God, do I want to last. But I’m so fucking desperate for her.

“Baby,” I grind out. “I’m going to come.” I pause, giving her the opportunity to refuse me. But she only nods, her chest heaving.

I know she wants me, but I don’t want to hurt her. “I need to go fast, hard. ”

“Please,” she pants. “I want to feel you coming inside of me.”

Her words set the nerves under my skin on fire, and I feel her heat wrap me up as I push her thighs higher and drive into her. She begins rubbing herself again, her little whimpers spurring me on as I pound into her like a man possessed.

I look down at Olivia, her body taking everything I’m giving, and I want to swallow her whole. I never want to go another day without this woman by my side.

“Don’t stop,” she gasps as she lifts her hips to meet my thrusts. “Nate, I’m going to come again, please don’t stop.”

I grab her hip and yank her into me with a growl, burying myself so deep I swear I feel the pulse of her heart against the tip of my cock. Her pussy starts to contract again and that’s it.

She lets out a cry as another orgasm rips through her, and I bury myself one final time, coming deep inside her with a low, broken groan.

My entire body shudders as I empty myself into her, every drop, every ragged breath, every piece of me surrendered to her.

The world feels different now. As though the intensity of what just passed between us has reshaped its edges.

Olivia is curled against me, her body warm and pliant beneath the heavy knit blanket.

My sweater hangs loose on her frame, the sleeves too long, the hem grazing her thighs, but god, she looks perfect.

It’s a sight I want etched into my memory forever—her completely at ease, her head resting on my shoulder as her fingers trace idle patterns over my chest.

She’s here. No hesitation, no walls. And it’s everything .

Her confession still echoes in my mind, a low thrum of euphoria .

I’m falling in love with you.

I’ve spent so long waiting for her to trust me with those feelings, and now that she has, it feels like something has broken open inside me.

This is the most secure I’ve ever felt with her, the most certain I’ve ever been.

For all the meticulous planning, all the calculated steps I’ve taken, nothing compares to this. No strategy, no manipulation could ever match the power of her choosing me.

My arm tightens around her, pulling her impossibly closer, and she hums softly, her breath a warm caress against my neck.

I let my fingers drift over her shoulder, tracing the line of her collarbone through the sweater. She shifts slightly against me but doesn’t pull away. A rare contentment settles over me, so fragile that I’m afraid to disturb it.

But there’s something I need to ask her—something I can’t keep inside any longer.

I turn my head slightly, brushing my lips over her hair. “Baby,” I murmur, my voice low, meant only for her. She tilts her head up, green eyes warm and curious.

“Do you remember when I asked you about your plans for winter break?”

She blinks, clearly not expecting the question, and nods slowly. “I do,” she says, her voice soft.

I hesitate—not because I’m unsure, but because what I want matters more than I know how to say. I’m not accustomed to vulnerability, not like this, but with Olivia, it feels unavoidable.

“I’ve been trying to give you space to think about it,” I confess, threading our fingers together. “But I need to ask… Have you given it any more thought?”

Her lips part slightly as a hint of surprise flickers across her face. She doesn’t speak right away, and the pause makes it slightly hard to breathe but I forge on, my thumb brushing slow circles over her hand.

“Because I meant it, Olivia,” I say, more resolute. “You can spend the break with me… I want you to.”

A crease has now formed between her brows, but I refuse to waver.

“I’ll take care of everything,” I add hastily, my grip on her tightening, just in case she tries to pull away. “You’ll have nothing to worry about. I just… I want to give you the break you deserve, Olivia. To show you what life with me could be like. To create more memories with you.”

Her gaze searches mine, and for a moment, I see the conflict there—the push and pull of her desires warring with the insecurities I know still fester.

I hate the thought that she might hesitate because she doesn’t see herself the way I see her.

She has become everything to me, and I need her to understand that.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” I continue, my voice softening. “But please , Olivia. Say yes. Come back with me to Manhattan.”

The seconds stretch and my heart pounds. Her lips press together as she considers my words, her fingers twitching slightly against mine.

And then, finally, she nods.

“Yes,” she says, her voice barely audible but certain.

Relief crashes over me like a wave, followed by a surge of triumph. She’s chosen me again, taken another step deeper into my world, and I can’t hide the smile that spreads across my face.

“Thank you, baby,” I say softly, leaning in to press another kiss to her forehead. My lips linger against her skin as I murmur, “You can’t imagine how happy you’ve just made me.”

For the first time in my life, happiness feels tangible, real. And it’s wrapped entirely in her.

After convincing Olivia to join me in New York for winter break, a new hunger rises in me. Every piece of herself she offers only seems to sharpen my craving for more.

The idea rooted itself in my mind the moment Professor Jones suggested collaborating on the capstone project together.

In my head, I can already see it: late nights working side by side, the fusion of our ideas into something extraordinary, the culmination of everything we’ve built together.

The thought of it sets something alight inside me, a need to ensure it becomes reality. Not through pressure, but through precision. With Olivia, everything must be deliberate, earned. She deserves gestures that mean something.

So tonight isn’t just a date. It’s strategy. The grandeur, the art curated to impress—every detail is designed to show her what we could be. What we already are, when she lets herself fall.

I glance around the dimly lit gallery of the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, the faint glow of carefully placed spotlights illuminating centuries-old art.

The Venetian-inspired architecture, the lush courtyard brimming with vibrant greenery and flowers—it’s a setting meant to dazzle.

To remind her that no one else can offer her what I can.

It’s taken days of intense planning, strings pulled, and favors called in, but it’ll be worth every ounce of effort if it brings her joy.

The sound of footsteps pulls my attention to the entrance. I turn just as she steps into view, and for a moment, the world tilts.

She’s breathtaking.

The soft lighting casts a glow over her, catching the sweep of her dress, the elegant curve of her waist and hips, the soft part of her lips as she takes in the space with wide eyes filled with wonder.

She’s a masterpiece among masterpieces.

“Olivia,” I say, stepping toward her, watching her expression shift as she notices me. Surprise, delight, and then something softer. She smiles, and I feel it in my chest—a direct hit .

I reach for her hand and bring it to my lips, brushing a kiss to her knuckles before leaning in to press another tender kiss to the corner of her mouth. Her breath hitches. Mine does too.

“Nate,” she breathes, her voice tinged with awe. “You… This is…” Her words trail off as she glances around again, drinking in the details.

“For us,” I say simply, reaching for her hand and lacing my fingers through hers. “I thought we could use a little escape from finals. Somewhere quiet, beautiful…something worthy of you.”

Her cheeks flush, and she looks down, her modesty always managing to disarm me.

“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble,” she murmurs, but her eyes sparkle with appreciation.

“Oh, but I did,” I say, leading her further into the gallery. “I’ve never been one for half-measures, especially not with you.”

We wander slowly through the museum, the silence between us companionable as her gaze flits from one piece to the next.

I keep my hand on the small of her back, guiding her gently, savoring every glance she steals at me.

When we reach the center of the courtyard, I stop, tugging her gently to a halt. She looks up at me, her brow furrowing slightly in question.

From my coat pocket, I pull out a neatly folded piece of paper. It’s clean, deliberate and entirely unnecessary, but I wanted to include a touch of theatrics that I hope will put a smile on her face.

“I have a proposal,” I say lightly as she eyes it with wary amusement.

Her eyes widen just slightly, a flicker of something—anticipation, maybe…hope?—before she masks it. It punches through me with unexpected force.

“Not that kind of proposal,” I add quickly, though my lips twitch with the temptation. “Unless you want it to be.”

“Nathaniel,” she says, half-laugh, half-warning .