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He groans against me. “Let go, baby. Let me feel you fall apart.”

I shatter. Writhing, shaking, sobbing his name. It’s not just pleasure—it’s release. Months of tension breaking apart under the force of his touch.

He kisses his way back up my body, eyes wild, lips glistening. I grab his shirt and pull it off in one motion. He helps, then rids himself of his pants. His cock is heavy, hard, pulsing. I reach for it, stroking slowly, teasing.

“Sierra…” He warns, teeth clenched, body vibrating with need.

“Let me make you feel what you made me feel,” I whisper, sitting up to kiss the tip of his cock, playing with his piercing. He grabs my chin and tilts my head to kiss me—deep, slow, intoxicating. My thumb brushes over his tip, spreading the pre-cum, then strokes down to the base, firm and sure.

He groans into my mouth, grabbing my wrist.

“Not yet. I need to be inside you. Now.”

Nick moves over me again, settling between my thighs. The head of his cock teases my entrance, sliding through my wetness.

We lock eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asks—his voice thick, his breath catching.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Relieved, he pushes in—slow and deep—and we both moan like we’ve come home. He fills me completely, perfectly, like we were made for this. For each other.

He doesn’t move at first. Just holds himself inside me, forehead against mine, eyes closed. Both of us breathing hard, overwhelmed.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you more,” he replies, starting to move.

Gentle at first. Then harder. Deeper. Every thrust is deliberate—full of emotion, of need, of everything we couldn’t say until now.

I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, taking more. His name falls from my lips over and over like a prayer.

“Sierra…” he gasps, voice wrecked. “You feel like fucking heaven. I missed you so much.”

We climb together, chasing that edge—tangled in sweat and whispers and moans.

And when we come—together—it’s not quiet. It’s a cry torn from both of us, raw and real and consuming.

He buries his face in my neck, holding me as close as he can, and I feel him tremble above me.

We stay like that for minutes, maybe hours. Our bodies molded together, chests rising and falling in sync. Skin slick with sweat. Hearts finally at peace.

And as the silence stretches, heavy and warm, he lifts his head to kiss me—soft and reverent.

I’m home.

FORTY-SIX

Nick

We fell asleep tangled together, her body curled against mine like it belonged there.

Because it did.

It always had.

Sometime during the night, we woke up. No words. Just hands. Mouths. Skin. We made love—tender and deep. Then again—rough and wild. Like we were trying to erase every second we’d spent apart.