Page 37 of The Cuddle Clause

Roman

She was laughing. Still breathless from teasing me about the towels, still grinning as I kissed the sound right off her mouth. She tasted like toothpaste and steam and something sweet I hadn’t earned, but I kept chasing it anyway. Kept kissing her because I wanted to memorize her with my mouth.

She cupped my face with both hands and pulled me down like nothing else existed but this. Us. Now.

The mattress dipped under my knees as I crawled over her, bracing myself so I didn’t crush her but refusing to give her an inch of space she clearly didn’t want. Her thighs parted, welcoming me between them.

Her fingers curled around the back of my neck, tugging me down again. The kiss wasn’t rushed this time—it was deeper, heavier. A slow ache blooming between us.

She lifted her hips just enough to brush against me, and I groaned into her mouth, catching myself with one hand pressed to the mattress beside her head. My other hand slid up her side until my thumb found the soft curve of her breast.

She arched into it, and my restraint slipped another notch.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I murmured against her lips.

She didn’t. She just looked at me with heat, trust, want—and it went straight to my cock.

I eased her back down against the mattress, pushing her hair off her face before kissing her again. My hand trailed over her bare stomach, ribs, cupping her breast with more purpose now. She gasped into my mouth, body pressing up into mine like she couldn’t help herself.

And that was it. My patience vanished.

“Fuck, Maggie…” My voice came out rougher than I intended. “You’re gorgeous. All of you.”

Her cheeks flushed.

I lowered myself over her, chest to chest, skin to skin, and kissed her again before grinding my cock against her, slow enough to feel every wet, hot inch of her open for me.

She whimpered into my mouth. “Please.”

“Please what?” I murmured, dragging my lips down her jaw, over her throat.

“Please, Roman… I want to feel you.”

That was all I needed. I lined myself up and thrust into her, slow enough to feel every tight, clenching inch as she took me in. The heat of her wrapped around me like a vise, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from coming right then. My head dropped to her shoulder with a curse.

“Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good,” I rasped, my voice breaking. “So fucking tight. So perfect.”

Her nails raked down my back, a shiver shooting through me as her hips tilted, pulling me deeper. That little shift punched the air from my lungs.

I started slow, savoring the drag, the way her body molded around mine like she’d been built for me alone. But the control didn’t last. She rolled her hips up to meet me, and I lost it—thrusting harder, deeper, until the wet slap of our bodies filled the room.

“Just like that,” I groaned, pressing my forehead to hers. “You take me so well, baby. Made for this cock. Made for me.”

Her mouth parted, and she panted my name breathlessly. I kissed her hard, swallowing every moan until I had to hear them again. I pulled back, thrusting slow but deep, grinding against her just enough to watch her eyes go glassy.

“Say it again,” I ordered, my tone low and sharp. “Say my name.”

“Roman,” she gasped.

“God, I love that.” I kissed her again, then slid my hand between us, finding her clit and rubbing tight, dirty circles. “Come on, Mags. You’ve got it.”

Her whole body went taut, then trembled as her walls clamped down around me, wet and hot, milking me in deep pulses. She cried out, and the sound ripped through me like lightning.

“Fuck, yes. That’s it. You’re perfect when you come for me. So perfect.”

I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. I worked her through it, keeping my pace until I felt my own orgasm clawing up my spine.

I pulled out and flipped her onto her hands and knees. My palm smoothed over the curve of her ass before I slid back in hard, groaning at the slick, tight heat that swallowed me again.

The view nearly wrecked me—her ass high, back arched, hair wild, skin flushed and damp.

I gripped her hips hard enough to bruise and drove into her without mercy, fast and deep, until her arms gave out and she collapsed onto the mattress.

“Look at you,” I groaned, leaning over her, chest to her back, one hand tangling in her hair to pull her head up. “So gorgeous like this. Mine.”

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice breaking.

“Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

I slammed into her one last time, spilling inside her with a groan that was more a growl, every muscle in my body locking from the force of it. My hips jerked helplessly, still chasing the last shreds of release.

For a long minute, all I could hear was the sound of us breathing—ragged, uneven, wrecked.

I eased out and collapsed beside her, dragging her with me until she was half sprawled on my chest. Her skin was hot, sticky, and I didn’t care.

“Beautiful,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. “So fucking beautiful.”

She traced lazy patterns over my chest, her touch sparking little aftershocks through my muscles despite how drained I was.

I didn’t care if the sheets got wet or if the world outside had kept spinning. Didn’t care that the bed was a mess. All that mattered was the feel of her tangled around me, flushed and sated.

All I cared about was Maggie, next to me.

She dragged her fingers through my chest hair, drawing shapes only she could see. Her breathing had slowed, but she wasn’t asleep yet. I could feel the quiet awareness still in her, that warm, dreamy space between euphoria and rest.

I stared at the ceiling and let the words rise up before I could talk myself out of them. “I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone.”

She didn’t say anything, but her hand stilled, palm flat against my ribs.

“You’re not just important to me,” I said. “You’re everywhere. I feel you everywhere. Like—” I let out a shaky breath, searching for the words. “You regulate my nervous system just by being in the room.”

She raised her head and cupped my face, stroking my cheek with her thumb. Gentle. Steady. Like she knew what those words cost me.

“Roman…” Her voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “Can I ask you something?”

I hummed, trying to play it cool even though her touch made my pulse thrum.

“What does mating really mean? I mean, these couples that actually do it… the real deal. What does that look like? Are they magically tethered for life? Is it… breakable? Does it take away your autonomy?”

I stared at her. She wasn’t fishing for romance—she genuinely wanted to understand.

I let out a slow breath. “It’s supposed to be real. Not a performance for politics or magic quotas. It’s… a bond. Deeper than any vow, any marriage. Yeah, it tethers you. Magic in the blood, in the bones. You feel each other. You carry each other.”

Her brows knit slightly. “So, it’s forever?”

“Yeah. Even death doesn’t really break it.

That’s why it’s a gift. It’s supposed to be beautiful.

Something you choose because you can’t not.

It’s not meant to trap you or make you less yourself—it’s supposed to make you more.

Stronger. Connected.” I paused, my throat tight. “But only if it’s real.”

She looked at me like she was cataloging every word and weighing it against something in her own head. “I feel… seen. Safe. Like I can be myself around you, too. No shrinking. No pretending.”

My throat closed up again, because that was everything I’d ever wanted to give someone and never believed I could.

I kissed her hand, and she settled back down, snuggling against my chest. She hitched her leg around my hips and wrapped her arm around my waist.

There was no rush. No pressure. Just hands tracing skin and breaths being shared. Her smile curved against my ribs every time I touched the back of her knee with my knuckles. She knew every move before I made it. And I never wanted to stop learning hers.

The air between us was full of unspoken things, but not the heavy kind. Not the anxious, foreboding kind.

The good kind.

The I-want-to-stay-in-this-moment-forever kind.

But forever was a lie tonight, because my brain wouldn’t stop. Not even with her curled into my side like she belonged there. Not even with peace in my arms.

Lucien’s words came back like poison in the bloodstream.

As soon as possible. Lucien probably expected us to be mated already, and I had no idea how to even broach the subject with Maggie. We were supposed to have more time. I was supposed to have come up with a plan.

Her lips parted slightly as she started to drift off, and her fingers dug into my skin as I shifted slightly beneath her.

Maggie didn’t know what that bite meant. What it would bind her to. What kind of magic lived in blood and teeth and instinct. I wouldn’t force her into it. Not for politics. Not to stay in the pack. Not even to keep her.

She deserved to choose, even if that choice cost me everything. Because I wanted her. Not a claim. Not a bond. Her. And if the price of letting her be free was losing her… then I’d pay it.

I kissed the top of her head, then whispered, “You mean too much to me to mess this up.”

She didn’t stir. She slept, safe in my arms, unaware of the storm inside me.

I stayed awake long into the night, heartbeat loud with dread and devotion. Would I ever be strong enough to let her go if she asked me to?

Maggie slept like she hadn’t slept for days.

She had one arm splayed across my chest, her cheek pressed into the dip between my collarbone and shoulder. The scent of her still lingered on my fingertips.

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to think.

For once, I wasn’t performing or planning my next move. I just existed. With her. It was everything I hadn’t known I needed.

Her breathing was slow and even, and the easy rhythm of it calmed my own chaos. I traced small circles on her back, anchoring myself in her warmth. This was it. This was what I’d been chasing without realizing.

No expectations. No threats. No pack meetings. No Lucien.

Just Maggie.