"Sloane," he whispers, his voice a mix of desperation and reverence. "You feel so fucking good."
His words send a shiver down my spine, pushing me closer to the edge. I can feel the coil of pleasure tightening in my core, the heat building with each thrust. His hands slide up my back, pulling me closer still, his breath hot against my skin.
The world narrows down to just the two of us, the feel of his body against mine, the sound of our breaths syncing.
It’s a moment of pure connection, of raw, unfiltered honesty.
"Come with me," I whisper, my voice a plea and a promise.
He nods, his eyes never leaving mine as we move together, chasing the release that hovers just out of reach. The tension builds, a coil of heat and desire that threatens to shatter us both.
And then, it does.
The wave of pleasure crashes over me, stealing my breath and my thoughts.
I cry out, my body convulsing around him as the release tears through me. He follows, his body tensing as he finds his own release, his groans mingling with mine in the quiet of the room.
We cling to each other, our bodies still joined, our breaths coming in ragged gasps.
I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, the steady thump echoing my own. The world slowly comes back into focus, a hazy blur of reality that feels a world away from the intensity of the moment we just shared.
He pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around me, holding me tight.
Our foreheads press together, a silent communion of emotion and connection.
The quiet of the room is filled only with the sound of our breaths, the subtle shift of our bodies as we come down from the high.
I take a deep breath, the scent of him filling my lungs. It’s a moment of pure contentment, of rightness. I let myself linger in it, savoring the feel of his arms around me, the warmth of his body against mine.
But even as I hold onto him, the bittersweet truth lingers in the back of my mind.
This is our last night together.
Because tomorrow, I'll leave.
But tonight… I just want to let go.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching mine. There’s a softness in his gaze, a tenderness that feels almost unfamiliar. He cups my face in his hands, his touch gentle, reverent.
"You’re incredible," he whispers, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me.
I smile, a tender curve of my lips that feels like an unspoken promise. "You’re not so bad yourself."
His thumb brushes across my cheekbone, the touch achingly gentle.
There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a raw honesty that makes my heart twist. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, a benediction of warmth and connection.
I shift, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
We stay like that, entwined in each other’s arms, the quiet of the room filled only with the sound of our breaths.
"Sloane," he whispers, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. "Promise me something."
I pull back slightly, meeting his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. "What?"
He cups my face in his hands, his touch gentle, reverent. "Promise me you’ll take care of yourself. That you won’t do anything reckless."
A lump forms in my throat, the weight of his words hitting me hard. I know what he’s really asking—that I won’t throw myself into the line of fire, that I won’t risk my life to protect others.
