“You did that on purpose,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, lips brushing my jaw. “You wanted to see me fall apart.”
I smile and lick my lips. “Definitely.”
He growls low in his throat, and it vibrates through me.
“You want control?” he whispers. “You’ve got it. Take what you want from me.”
It undoes something in me. That offer.
That surrender.
I reach between us, line him up, and slide down slow, so slow, I feel every inch stretch me again, thick and deep and perfect. My eyes flutter closed, breath catching in my throat as he fills me completely, my body locking down around him like it remembers.
And his eyes never leave me.
There’s no rush. No roughness. Just the sweet, brutal rhythm of two people who have nothing left to hide. His hands stroke my thighs, over my waist, my ribs, my breasts. He watches every reaction I give him like he’s cataloging it, like he’s learning me better this time.
“You feel like home,” he says, voice raw, almost broken.
I lean in, my hands on his chest, breath shaky.
“You are home,” I whisper.
He holds me there, not just with his body but his eyes, his everything.
And when we move together, slow and aching and full, it feels like the truth we’ve never dared to say out loud is finally breathing between us.
We were never made for soft love.
But this…this is ours.
And I’ll never survive anyone else again.
***
It should’ve scared me, the things we whispered in the dark, the truths we carved into each other’s flesh, the fierce, quiet promises made between ragged breaths.
It should terrify me, how easily the lines blurred between the monster and the man.
How effortlessly Kane Rivera stripped me bare not just physically, but in every other way that mattered.
But it doesn’t.
Right now, in this perfect quiet, there’s no room for fear. Just a slow, steady hum beneath my skin. A calm after a storm, like breathing clean air after choking on smoke.
The morning is lazy, soft, spilling sunlight across the sheets tangled around our legs. We lie together, still naked, still warm. My body curled into the hard curve of his, my head resting gentlyagainst his chest. His heartbeat steady beneath my ear strong, real, reassuring in a way I never imagined possible.
Eventually, I shift slightly, careful not to disturb him.
His grip tightens around my waist instantly. “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is rough, heavy with sleep, a little amused, and far too tempting.
“You’re clingy when you’re satisfied,” I tease softly, stretching against him like a cat in sunlight. “I like it.”
“Brat,” he whispers against my skin, voice deep and fond.
“Monster,” I murmur back, smiling softly.
His eyes darken, warmth pooling behind their depths. “Yours,” he murmurs quietly, with so much raw honesty it makes my breath catch.
