That sound—ragged, worshipful, completely undone—makes heat roll through me. I pull off slow, dragging my tongue over the head, tasting him, breath hot against his skin.
Then I crawl up his body, deliberately slow, mouth still wet, voice low. “You ready to beg now?” I whisper.
He’s panting, trembling beneath me, voice ragged with desperation. “Please. Please, baby. I need to be inside you. I need to feel you. Let me in.”
I crawl up his body and guide him to where I want him. Then I sink down unhurriedly until he’s seated inside me and I’m full in every way. He gasps, head falling back, hands clutching my waist, the only anchor keeping him grounded.
For the first time, I feel it fully: the power and love. The control. The surrender. Mine. All of it.
“Fuck,” he groans, hands flying to my hips.
I start to move, rolling my hips with the kind of control that makes him gasp. His hands tighten at my waist. Every nerve in me is lit. Every inch of him buried so deep, I swear I can feel him in my throat. I lean over him, press my mouth to his collarbone, and bite gently, just enough to make him groan beneath me.
His head tips back. I watch his throat work as he swallows hard, chest heaving, torn between losing control and begging me to keep going. I grind down harder, and his whole body jolts.
“You’re not in charge tonight,” I whisper, lips brushing his ear. “So don’t even try.”
He nods, eyes glazed. “Fuck, Candace… please.”
It’s not just a plea. It’s surrender.
I ride him harder, deeper, bracing my palms on his chest, watching the way his muscles tense beneath my hands. Hemoans low and broken. Every sound fueling my own desire until I’m trembling, teeth clenched, chasing the edge with him right beneath me.
When I feel his hips begin to thrust up, I slam mine down and hold. He cries out, loud and raw, shuddering beneath me, but I don’t let him come. Not yet.
“Not until I say,” I whisper, voice smooth and firm.
His hands tremble. His face is wrecked. I slow down again, rolling my hips in a teasing rhythm. Each thrust has purpose. Pressure. Fire. I clench around him, watching his jaw lock, sweat beading on his brow.
“Candace—please—I’m begging. I need to come. I need you.”
I lean forward, kiss the corner of his mouth, and murmur, “Then earn it.”
He groans again, and that’s when I give in. I ride him with everything I have, our skin slapping, sweat slicking every inch of contact. He’s holding on, but barely. I want him to break.
When I come—body shaking, head thrown back, fingers digging into his chest—I cry out his name, loud and breathless, and yell for him to come with me. My voice is all hunger, all command, all desperate need. And he does. He spills into me with a strangled moan, his body bowing up into mine, arms locking around me in desperation, holding on to everything we just became.
Afterward, I curl into his chest, heart still racing, skin still buzzing from everything we just gave and took. His breath is hot against my hair, his hands tracing lazy circles on my back even in his exhaustion.
“You ruin me, you know that?” he murmurs, voice rough and raw.
I lift my head, just enough to see the look in his eyes. Unguarded, tender, full.
“Good,” I whisper, brushing my fingers along his jaw. “Because I’m already yours.”
He leans in, kisses my forehead with intent. “I love you more than anything I’ve ever survived.”
My throat tightens. “You make me feel safe in a way I’ve never known. I know I never have to survive alone again.”
“Never.” His arms tighten around me, and I know we’re still healing, still learning how to let someone in without flinching. But this? This is a beginning.
There’s no shame in the power I took. No fear in the way he gave it. Just peace. And the feel of him holding me, everything in him saying I’m his whole damn world.
Chapter 49
Candace
Thesmellofroastedgarlic and fresh rosemary still clings to the air, refusing to let the night end. The table is covered in the kind of mess that comes from real conversation—pie crumbs, wine-streaked napkins, empty plates that no one rushes to clear. Laughter still echoes faintly, lingering inside the walls.
