“Are you sure?”
She nodded and tugged at the front of my T-shirt. “You’ve been in my head for weeks. I need the real thing.”
We shifted slowly, carefully. I hovered over her in bed, letting her guide the pace. I kissed her gently, then deeper, as her hands slid under the back of my shirt. Our tongues tangled while her short, polished nails raked down my back. When she gasped against my mouth, I stilled, worried I’d nudged her knee the wrong way.
“I’m good,” she insisted, sounding a little breathless. “I just missed you.”
I kissed across her collarbone, savoring the faint salt of her skin, and then lower to the swell of her breasts. Every hitch of her breath felt like permission, every scratch of her nails across my back another reminder that she wanted me closer.
I tugged her tank top higher until it was bunched under her arms. I drew my tongue across her nipples, slow and deliberate. Her body answered with another quiet gasp, her chest arching just enough.
My mouth trailed lower, down her stomach, where her muscles fluttered under the touch of my lips. I dipped my tongue into the shallow of her bellybutton and licked—a promise of things to come. Her eyes followed me, hazy but intent, as if she wanted to memorize the exact shape of what we were right now.
She lifted off the bed to help me remove her sleep shorts. She didn’t stop me when I nudged her thighs apart, always mindful of her injured knee. She shifted to give me space, trusting me to know her limits.
I kissed the inside of her thighs and let my breath fan across her skin. Her hand threaded through my damp hair before sliding back to the sheets.
I traced my fingers along the scars on her knee, lingering on the tender skin that had carried her through so much.
“Still doing okay?” I quietly asked.
She gave a tiny nod. “Mmhm.”
I lowered my mouth to her naked sex, moving slow and deliberate, with a rhythm I knew she loved. She was soft and warm against my lips, her hips giving the slightest tilt toward me before settling again, as if she couldn’t quite help it.
I was in no rush to reach the finish line—I tongued and sucked on her clit with the steady persistence that always unraveled her.
With my hands at her thighs, I watched her face for every flicker of pleasure and any sign of discomfort. Her fingers twitched against the sheets and then curled tight. Her breathing deepened. Her lips parted.
“Don’t stop, Lex,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Keep doing that.”
I stayed steady, coaxing her open with my mouth and easing my fingers inside her with the same patience. She trembled under my touch, tiny gasps and sighs escaping her lips. Her hipsrocked as much as she dared; her body trembled in a way that was more surrender than strain.
I tongued her clit with the flat of my tongue. Her lips pressed together in a firm line before she let them part again with a gasp.
I curled my fingers inside of her. Her thighs quivered. I sucked her clit. Her stomach tightened.
“I’m … getting close,” she warned.
I paused for a moment, brushing my lips lightly across her skin. Part of me wanted to tease her a little, to delay her orgasm and savor the way she trembled under my touch—but the memory of everything we’d been through lately, her injury, the fights, the fear of losing each other—it all grounded me. This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t about testing limits or proving something.
“You feel so good,” I murmured, my voice rough but gentle. “Just … like this.”
I pressed my thumb against her clit and rubbed tight, steady circles. She let out a low, needy moan.
I kept my fingers moving inside her, curling, brushing, stroking, alternating pressure and speed. She bucked against my hand, small desperate presses, until I felt her tighten around me.
I didn’t ease up.
I kept my thumb rubbing, my fingers curling, pumping inside her in a slow, insistent rhythm, letting her ride it fully, moaning, shivering, clinging to me.
I felt her muscles clamp—the sudden shudder of her release. She came undone, back arching just enough, biting her bottom lip to muffle the cry before she gave in and let me hear it.
I stayed with her through the aftershocks, holding her steady with my hands against her thighs. When her body finally slackened, I wiped my mouth on her inner thighs before crawling back up beside her. I brushed a kiss against her bare shoulder.
“Hey,” she whispered, her voice still thick with the aftermath.
“Hey,” I echoed back, meeting her gaze.
