Page 237 of Playing With Fire

That she could feel made for me. That being inside her would feel like the greatest gift on fucking planet Earth.

I wait until I feel her shatter around me, clutching me in her wet heat. “Last chance, Becks.”

I feel the tingle starting at the base of my spine. She wraps both legs around my waist and pulls me deeper in response. And then I finally let go and empty myself into the woman I’ve spent five years fantasizing about.

Nothing could compare to the reality of finally making her mine.

Mine.

The thought settles down deep in my chest, and fuck it feels good.

After I grab a warm cloth to clean her up, Delaney is curled against my side beneath the sheets, her cheek resting over my heart. One of her hands is tucked beneath the pillow. The other is holding mine.

A minute passes.

Then another.

“Can I ask you something?” she says.

“Shoot.”

“Was that what you expected?”

I look down at her. “It was better than anything I could have imagined.”

“Same.” She admits with a smile. “Are we going to be weird tomorrow?”

I close my eyes. There it is. The question I've been avoiding since I carried her into my bedroom.

Tomorrow. Reality. The part where we have to figure out what this means. I could tell her no. Promise that nothing will change. But it would be a lie.

“Probably,” I admit.

She laughs softly. “Great.”

“Becks.”

She lifts her head.

“I'm not going to pretend tonight didn't happen.”

Her expression grows serious. “Okay.”

“And I'm not going to act like it was some mistake.”

She searches my face. “Even with Declan?”

I exhale. “I'm not saying that's going to be easy.”

“I know.”

“But that's something we'll figure out.”

She nods slowly.

I brush my thumb along her cheek. “What I don't want is you waking up tomorrow thinking I regret this.”

Her eyes soften. “Okay.”