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“I haven’t been with anyone like that since,” he says softly. “Not because I didn’t want to. But because I didn’t think I could survive it if they didn’t stay.”

My heart lurches, not in fear this time, but in recognition. That quiet devastation that we’ve both experienced, in different ways, sure, but loss is loss, and it doesn’t discriminate.

And maybe that’s why I move, shifting toward him, reaching for his hand, threading my fingers through his, and he lets out the smallest breath.

“Maybe we don’t ever stop grieving the people we’ve lost. But this—whatever we’re building—it doesn’t have to come from what's broken. It can be something new.”

What he’s saying isn’t just about comforting me, it’s not just him seeing me and wanting me, it’s something more. Maybe we were meant to find each other, and this is all a part of the start of something real between us.

So, I lean in and kiss him. I brush my lips across his, testing his response, and when he leans in for more, I unwind our hands and pull him closer, tentatively licking into his mouth.

It’s the kind of kiss that says I heard every word and I’m still here .

That says thank you and I trust you and I want this, not because I’m trying to forget what just happened out there tonight, but because I remember all of it and want to feel something different now . Something good…and I think he does too.

When we part, I rest my forehead against his.

“I need you,” I whisper.

His eyes flutter shut for a second, but when they open again, they’re fiercely dark. It’s not just lust reflected back at me, it’s possession and trust that I see. “I need you more.”

We’re fused together in an instant. His hands smooth over my bare chest and mine try to seek something in him, but he’s still wearing his damp shirt, and I need it gone.

Standing, I let the towel drop, and his gaze snags on my length.

I want nothing more than to be seen and touched and desired by him.

“Fuck, look at you,” he practically growls. “How the hell are you real?”

My cheeks flame as he stands and pulls off his shirt.

Then his jeans and everything else. He doesn’t break eye contact the whole time, and there’s something in the way he holds my gaze that makes me feel invincible.

There’s a slow burning feeling stirring in my chest and spreading everywhere, settling in the pit of my stomach and low in my spine as I take in the soft trail of hair leading down the curve of muscle at his hips.

As he drags his hands up my sides, my flesh erupts in a shiver before he guides me back onto the bed. Climbing over me, our hard lengths graze against one another, causing us both to groan. It’s the most delicious kind of torture when we’re both needy and wanting, but neither of us give in yet.

His mouth finds my jaw first, then my cheek, then the bridge of my nose.

Everywhere but my mouth. So I do the same to him.

I kiss his neck, his collarbone, and suck on his skin, marking him; it’s all I can think about.

“Fuck, yes,” he whispers as I pull back and lightly blow on the marred skin there, watching his body react to my breath.

When he finally kisses my lips, it’s deep and unhurried, and it steals the last bit of tension from my shoulders. I sink into the mattress and let him take the lead. I know he loves it, and I do too. I want him to take what he needs from me, because I think I need it just as much from him.

I feel him everywhere. The scratch of his stubble as he moves down my chest. The softness of his lips along my abs.

The drag of his tongue along my thigh. I gasp when he kisses the inside of it, feather-light, and my cock throbs painfully, leaking onto my stomach.

The low hum rumbling from his throat makes me pant harder, especially when he runs his finger through the smear of liquid on me, then brings it to his mouth and sucks, slow and filthy.

When his lips pop off, he grins up at me with so much heat in his eyes, I might just burst.

“You taste so fucking good.”

“Fuuuuuck. You wanna tell me that now? When I’m so fucking amped up, I could blow? Risky business if you want this to last.”

He laughs quietly, and it feels like the most alive I’ve been in weeks. “Don’t blink then, baby. I’m only just getting started.”

When I reach for him, I pull him up and over me again, he comes easily.

His tongue dives into my mouth, demanding and intentional, just as he bites my lower lip too.

Another drop of pre-cum leaks onto my stomach, and I don’t know if it’s him or me, but I don’t care; the thought of us both on the edge makes me even harder.

I kiss him like I need to remember how it feels to be wanted.

To be touched like I’m more. Like I’m his .

“I want you inside me,” I whisper gravelly.

He pulls back to search my face, his hand cupping my jaw, thumb brushing just under my lip. “Fuck, Finn, you’re ruining me.”

The beat in my chest intensifies. Admitting something like that feels like he’s breathing life back into me. Especially when my mind whispers in response to him… You’re saving me.

He brushes his knuckles across my cheek, then reaches behind him, grabbing his wallet from his jeans. Pulling out a packet of lube and a condom, he leans down, kissing me once, then eventually his slicked-up fingers slide between my thighs.

“Shit, that’s cold.”

His grin is distracted as the tip of his finger circles around my hole.

He takes his time prepping me, murmuring quiet things I can’t fully process while I focus on the drag of his fingers that he never quite pushes inside.

The tease has sweat beading all over my body, and my limbs are unable to function.

“I could watch you like this all damn day,” he says.

I shift restlessly under him, knowing he won’t give me more until he’s decided to.

Then he leans in and his length pulses against my thigh. “You feel that?” he murmurs. “You do that to me. Watching you take everything I give you, begging silently but being so fucking patient, it turns me on so fucking much.”

That’s when I break. A feral sound leaves my throat as I pull him closer, fusing our lips together.

“Stop, no more teasing,” I pant between hard kisses.

“Put a finger in so you can fuck me,” I cry out, locking eyes with him.

The flare of desire that blossoms there is fucking magnificent to watch…

The browns turn molten lava and the side of his mouth lifts just slightly, his dominant side awakening in a way that makes my cheeks heat.

The man has his fingers right there on my ass, and his smirk is what’s making me making me blush? What the fuck.

“Yeah?” he says, voice thick. “You want it that bad, baby?”

I nod, almost frantic, but I don’t look away. “Either that, or you turn over so I can fuck you.”

His expression turns darker, hungrier. But the heat in his eyes doesn’t lose its focus. It’s all trained on me. Like he’s waiting for the exact second I fall apart. “One day, but you’re mine tonight.”

I hardly have time to process his words when he pushes in, and my nerve endings shudder with relief.

It’s just the tip of his finger, sliding through all the slick he’s worked around me.

My mouth falls open, but nothing comes out.

I can only stare at him, wide-eyed, as he presses in deeper, his jaw slack as he takes everything in.

It’s like he’s watching the sensation ripple through me and feeling it in his own skin.

Like every twitch of my hips, every tremor in my thighs, is mirrored somewhere in him.

“Mmm, just like that,” he whispers. I nod, not wanting him to stop, or maybe I just shake because I do feel it, all of it. The pressure, the stretch, the intensity in my chest that’s transforming into something I don’t have a name for. “Look how perfect you are.”

I whimper just as his finger crooks slightly. My back arching, fingers digging into the sheets, I gasp.

“There it is,” he rumbles darkly. “Right there.”

I try to speak, try to beg, but all that comes out is a long moan.

His smirk fades, face stoic and full of determination as he adds a second finger and gently scissors them.

I stretch around him, aching, clenching, but I don’t look away.

I can’t. His gaze is locked to mine, like it’s anchoring me.

Like he’s showing me that he’s here, really here, and I don’t have to hide.

His lips part, breaths ragged.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he groans. “You look so fucking good like this.”

“Foxx, please. ”

When he curls them again, my hips twitch, my eyes flutter, and he smiles wickedly.

“You want my cock to stretch you out?” he growls, and I might actually start crying soon.

“Yes, that’s what I want, now, please,” I beg. By the time he’s covered himself and lines up, I’m already reaching, greedy for the weight of him. The ache I’ve been carrying since the beach eases the moment he pushes in. He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t let me.

He inches forward, pushing past the tight ring, and the burn feels more than I ever remember, but it’s a feeling I welcome.

“Don’t stop.” And when he’s fully there, seated deep inside me, something breaks loose in my chest as I watch his head fall back between his shoulders, corded, thick neck on display.

The guttural sound that leaves him is primal. “Fuuuuuuck me.”

I exhale and my hands find his shoulders, then his hair, threading through as he starts to move in gentle, rolling thrusts that make my breath hitch and my legs tighten around his waist.

His mouth finds my throat. My collarbone. My jaw again. He moves like we’ve done this a thousand times, like he knows exactly where I want him and how to make it feel like I’m burning from the inside out.

“God, Finn,” he murmurs, voice ragged against my skin. “You feel so fucking good. You were made to take my cock, weren’t you?”

I moan into his mouth as he kisses me again, this time messier.

Our rhythm builds, as does my orgasm. I can feel the heat settling at the base of my spine, my balls tingling, and just as I’m about to reach down to stroke myself, he’s there, his firm grip slicking up and down in a rhythm that makes me crazy.

“Foxx,” I gasp, teeth clenched. “Baby, I’m gonna lose it. Come with me. Fuck, I need you to come with me.”

His eyes flash as his pace never falters.

I come with a cry that shudders through me, my whole body locking up as I spill between us, his name torn from my throat, raw and real and everything I’ve been holding back.

And then he’s right there with me, buried deep, hips jerking, voice cracking as he groans into my neck. It’s not just a release, it’s a surrender. A sound like he’s unraveling, giving in, giving over . Letting go of whatever he’s held tight for too long.