Page 118 of Matchmaking On The Menu

THINGS WORTH CAPTURING

Her breath is still uneven when I reach for her, my hand sliding under her chin to bring her back up to me.

“Hey,” I murmur, my voice rough.

She looks at me, her expression open and unguarded.

I don’t think about it. I just kiss her.

It’s different now. Not just heat or reaction. There’s weight in it. Gratitude. Want. Something deeper threading through it that I can’t quite name yet.

My hands find her waist, steadying both of us, then I lift her without breaking the kiss.

She lets out a small, surprised laugh, her hands catching on my shoulders. “Okay… we’re moving now?”

“Yeah,” I murmur.

I don’t take her far. The desk is right there. I set her down on it slower than I need to, my hands lingering at her hips for a second longer than necessary. Not hesitation. Just awareness. Of her. Of this. Of how quickly this stopped being simple.

I lean back in, deepening the kiss, but I keep control of it. Not holding back. Choosing. Choosing her. Choosing this.

“Your writing,” I say, the words slipping out before I can overthink them. I slide my hands over her waist, grounding myself in her warmth. “I loved it.”

She stills.

“I never got to say it before,” I continue. “But I do love it. It’s sharp and funny and honest in this way that sneaks up on you.” I brush my thumb across her cheek. “Thank you for letting me read it.” Something vulnerable flickers across her face. “That couldn’t have been easy.”

Her breath catches. We both know this isn’t just about the pages she handed me. It’s about her trusting me enough to let me see the parts she usually keeps tucked away behind jokes and headlines and easy smiles.

“I liked seeing that side of you,” I murmur as I unbutton her jeans and tug them down her legs. “The real side.”

I slide into her before she can make light of this. I need her to feel what I’m saying. Her heat wraps around me, and she’s so fucking wet for me I almost come again.

When we start moving, it’s slow, not because I’m holding back, but because I don’t want to miss any of it. The way she responds, the way she feels. I take it all in because this matters, this is worth remembering. It’s the first real thing I’ve had in months, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel lost.

A rhythm builds between us, a silent conversation that transcends words. Each movement is deliberate, each touch a promise of something deeper, each pulse around my cock drawing me in more. Her skin feels electric beneath my fingertips, and every gasp she makes sends a thrill through me, igniting a fire I thought had long extinguished.

We’re lost in the moment, the world outside fading into a distant hum, and the reality is that nothing else matters right now. Just us. Just this connection.

“Tell me what you want,” I whisper, my breath mingling with hers, the air thick with anticipation. I want to know her desires, to navigate this uncharted territory together.

“I want… you,” she replies, her eyes locking onto mine with a fierce intensity that sends a jolt through me.

The honesty of her confession strikes a chord deep within me, and I nod as the weight of her words settles between us. I lean in closer, capturing her lips again, this time with a sense of urgency that feels primal, raw.

Her hands roam my back, nails grazing my skin, and I respond instinctively, pulling her body flush against mine. It’s a dance of give and take, of exploration and vulnerability, and I’m entranced by every second of it.

Her legs clamp around my waist, pulling me in deeper. She bites down on her lip, and I’m suddenly envious, so I dip my head and release her lip from her teeth with my tongue, licking where the skin is a bit puffy now. She arches her back, and I thrust into her harder, a touch faster.

“Teddy, yes!” The moan rushes from her mouth. The intimacy deepens, and I can feel our connection solidifying. It’s as if we’re weaving something intricate and beautiful, thread by thread. I take her hand and place it over my heart, letting her feel the wild beat beneath her palm.

“Can you feel that?” I ask, my voice a low rumble. “That’s you. You’re the reason for this.”

She smiles, and it lights up her face and warms my soul. “I didn’t know I could make you feel this way,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You do,” I assure her, brushing my fingers against her cheek, capturing the moment like a photograph of something exquisite.

She combusts around me, her heat almost scorching. I try to hold my own release off, wanting so desperately to feel every pulse of hers without the distraction of my own, but I can’t. She feels so good, clenching around me. So I let go, crashing blissfully with her.