The combination of his words and his body moving inside mine pushes me toward another peak, this one building even higher than the last.
“You’re going to come again,” he tells me, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. “Come around my cock while I fill you up. Show me how completely you surrender to me.”
His words are the final push I need.
I shatter around him, my inner walls clenching and pulsing as pleasure tears through me. I scream his name, beyond caring how loud I am or who might hear.
Axel follows immediately, his rhythm faltering as he drives into me one final time, his release hot and pulsing inside me. The feeling of him coming undone, of being claimed so completely, sends another aftershock of pleasure through my body.
We collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, both of us breathing hard. Axel pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me protectively.
For several minutes, we just lie there, his heartbeat gradually slowing beneath my cheek. I feel different somehow. Changed in a fundamental way I can’t quite articulate.
“You’re never going back to that apartment,” Axel says finally, his voice soft but certain. “This is your home now. With me.”
The strangest part is how right it feels. Like I’ve been searching my whole life for this exact place, this exact man. Like every path I’ve taken, every struggle I’ve endured, was leading me here.
“Okay,” I whisper, and I mean it. I’ve crossed that threshold, and I have no desire to turn back.
His arms tighten around me, and I close my eyes, surrendering completely to the feeling of belonging.
I wakebefore Axel the next morning. Carefully, I slip out from under his arm, watching him for a moment as he sleeps. An unexpected desire to do something nice for him washes over me. I decide to make him breakfast.
I slide out of bed and pull on one of his t-shirts, the soft fabric falling to mid-thigh. The wooden floors are cool beneath my bare feet as I pad through his house—our house?—toward the kitchen. The thought stops me in my tracks. When did I start thinking of this place as ours?
The kitchen is spotless with gleaming, high-end appliances. I open the massive refrigerator and gather ingredients, moving around the space with growing confidence.
It feels strangely natural, this domesticity. It’s like I’ve been making breakfast in Axel’s kitchen for years instead of just a week. I find the pans without having to search, know exactly which drawer holds the spatulas, and remember that he keeps the coffee beans in the freezer for maximum freshness.
The coffee maker hums to life as I crack eggs into a bowl. Then Axel’s voice startles me from my thoughts.
“Something smells amazing.”
I turn to find him leaning against the doorframe, wearing only a pair of low-slung sweatpants. His chest is bare, the mountain tattoo over his heart drawing my eyes like a magnet. His hair is mussed from sleep and last night’s activities, and the stubble along his jaw makes him look dangerously appealing.
“I hope you don’t mind.” I gesture to the stove. “I wanted to surprise you.”
He walks across the kitchen and wraps his arms around my waist from behind.
“Of course I don’t mind, Kitten.” He presses a kiss to the side of my neck. “I love waking up to find you in my kitchen.”
“The bacon’s going to burn,” I warn, but make no move to step away.
“Let it.” His hands slide under the hem of my borrowed shirt, finding the bare skin of my stomach. “I’m not hungry for food.”
I laugh and push his hands away playfully. “Behave. I worked hard on this breakfast.”
Surprisingly, he listens, releasing me with one final kiss to my shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”
I flip the bacon while Axel pours coffee into two mugs, moving around me with easy familiarity. We work together seamlessly, like we’ve been doing this dance for years.
“What’s on your agenda today?” I ask, plating the food.
“Band practice this afternoon.” He takes the plates from my hands and carries them to the kitchen island. “And speaking of plans, do you work next Friday night?”
I mentally check my schedule. “No, I’m off. Why?”
“I want you to meet my family.” He says it casually, like he’s suggesting we try a new restaurant. “Dinner at Dad and Lainey’s. Ruby and Clay will be there, too.”
