“You’re safe,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. I’m not letting go.”
My orgasm built slowly, not a crash but a rising tide of emotion and sensation that broke me open and stitched me back together in the same breath.
I cried out his name, and he followed with a deep groan,forehead pressed to mine as he let go, hips stuttering as he spilled inside me—bare and unguarded.
The awareness hit me in a hot, overwhelming wave.
No condom. No barrier. Just Chase, giving me all of him, trusting me with it.
And I’d never felt more claimed—or more loved.
We stayed tangled together, breathless and wrecked, and when he finally pulled back to look at me, there was nothing but love in his eyes.
“I love you, Elena.”
I reached up and touched his face, my thumb brushing over the place where his tear had been.
“I know,” I said, voice thick. “I love you, too.”
Chapter Forty-Three
ELENA
Now, March 2025
You knowhow they say doctors make the worst patients?
Not. Wrong.
“I swear to fuck, Tori, if Masters doesn’t get in here with that epidural in the next sixty seconds, I willfucking riot.”
Ashford Medical Center was a small hospital. Everyone knew everyone—just like in Sable Point. Tori Poke, my OB/GYN, had also become a good friend. And James Masters? Her husband.
Stupid small towns and small hospitals.
“I don’t care what you need to do,” I snapped. “Tell him no more pie. Withhold sex. Whatever it takes.”
“Boy, youaredramatic, aren’t ya?”
“Excuse me?!”
“Elena, calm down. How much pain are you in?”
“None at the moment. But I don’t plan on being in any, either. These contractions are getting stronger, and you know how this goes—things can turn on a dime, and then it could be too?—”
“Did someone order an epidural?”
Masters sauntered into the room, blissfully unaware of the tension that preceded him.
“You took too long. Tori’s withholding sex.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Traitor.”
“Baby.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. She returned the gesture.
