Page 176
His hands move to my ass, pressing me flush against him. His cock presses against my stomach through the towel. All barriers—fabric, nightgown, restraint—cease to exist. We are already bare in every way that matters.
“I missed you,” I reply, my heart hammering in my chest.
Tonight, I’ve done nothing but bare my soul to him, without daring to hope, without daring to imagine I’d be back in his arms.
He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed—the same bed where I once felt I didn’t belong, yet now, here, everything feels right.
He settles over me, kissing me relentlessly, while slipping a hand under my nightgown. When he discovers I’m not wearing panties, a groan vibrates against my neck.
“Trying to seduce me, kitten?” he teases, biting my shoulder. “Hmm?”
“I just wanted to show you what you’re missing if you stay mad at me,” I gasp, breathless, laughing.
Chuckling, he takes my hand and guides it over the towel wrapped around him, then presses me to undo it. I tug gently until it falls away, freeing him—hard, ready, and impossibly perfect.
I let the towel slip somewhere onto the floor, my hand immediately seeking him. I grasp him just as his fingers press against my clit, igniting a shiver that rips through me, consuming and uncontainable.
He seizes my nightgown with both hands, lifting it slowly. I rise to help him remove it, leaving me utterly bare before him—no clothes, nothing to hide.
“Your body drives me crazy, Thalia,” he murmurs before his mouth returns to mine.
He leans down, kissing, nibbling, licking each nipple, his hand moving with exquisite precision against my clit. I spread my legs wider, guiding him to my entrance, circling him slowly, savoring the moment.
He actually groans in my ear, pressing just enough to tease the promise of entry, and I move my hand to stop him.
“Thalia,” he growls.
He lifts his head, locking eyes with mine, then withdraws his hand from my clit, positioning himself with deliberate care.
Just before he penetrates me, I shift my thighs, and he pauses, amusement dancing in his gaze.
“Say it,” he murmurs, reading me perfectly, a smirk playing on his lips.
“You give me a relationship, or there’s no fucking,” I breathe out seductively, brushing my lips against his.
He presses the tip of his cock against my pussy, making me moan.
“Think you can resist, kitten?” he teases, laughing soft and intimate.
I don’t answer. I swallow hard, drinking his presence with desire, hope, and every emotion tangled between.
“I’ll give you whatever you want, Thalia,” he says, suddenly serious. “Do you want a relationship? We have a relationship,” he confirms.
My heart stops—not just stealing my breath or halting my movement, but suspending me in a moment that feels almost unreal.
It’s as if I’ve been submerged underwater all this time, drifting, suffocating in silence, and only now he’s pulling me to the surface, letting air flood my lungs for the first time in what feels like forever.
“You need a name for what we are?” he continues, his voice brushing over my skin like warm velvet. “Fine. We’re in a relationship.”
Then he kisses me—slowly, achingly slow—until the air disappears from my lungs. My lips respond instinctively, because my mind is gone, completely and utterly overtaken by the weight of his words.
My ears ring, my heart pounds wildly against my ribs, and tears spill down my cheeks without warning.
And he notices.
His gaze locks onto mine—deep, piercing—and without breaking the connection, he slides into me… carefully, deliberately, like the moment demands reverence.
“I’m your boyfriend, Thalia,” he whispers, and then his mouth claims mine again, the kiss saturated with desire, with tenderness, with devotion.
