Page 138 of Mending Hearts
I don’t.
He returns, focused, grounding, slicking his fingers and then himself with calm precision. The sounds alone make my skin prickle.
When he presses back inside me, the stretch is deeper now, fuller. My head falls back.
“Take what you need,” he says.
I drag him down into a kiss, pouring everything into it—fear, relief, the fragile certainty that this is real. I bear down, riding the sensation until the pressure builds again.
Then I shift, pushing him onto his back and climbing over him. His hands come to my hips automatically.
The first touch of him in my hand makes my breath hitch. Thick. Warm. The piercing brushing my palm.
I line him up, hovering, and he watches me like I’m the only thing that exists, a curve to his lips.
“Something funny?” I ask, rolling my hips so the head of him nudges in and out.
His gaze shutters. “No.”
“Then what?”
“Watching you take what you want,” he says. “It’s hot as fuck.”
I smirk.
“It’s everything,” he adds.
The words hit deeper than they should. I sink down slowly, the stretch stealing my breath. His hold intensifies, steadying me.
We move together, instinctive and sure. I rock over him while he thrusts up, deep and controlled. His mouth finds mine again when he sits up, his kisses burning across my skin.
He closes his hand around my cock and I groan, tension building fast. Every movement is perfect, every stroke hitting exactly right.
It doesn’t take long.
Release hits me, sharp and perfect. I come hard, shaking, his name breaking from me. He follows, groaning low as he spills inside me.
Sagging against him, I press a kiss to his neck, saying, “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
“Always.” He kisses me softly, easing us down so I’m draped over him, skin slick, heat still shared.
Peace settles in, deep and rare. My mind is quiet.
“You think we were loud?” I mumble, reality trying to sink in.
“I don’t give a fuck either way.”
I press closer and snort. “Okay. I’ll try not to give a fuck either.”
He chuckles, the movement making me gasp, but not enough to separate. Not yet. I just need a little more time, just like this.
20
RAFE
The first thingI notice when we come back into the main space in Ollie’s impressive-as-fuck loft is that Miles hasn’t burned anything.
This shouldn’t be impressive. It absolutely is.
