Page 40 of Wynter's Second Chance

I let out a soft laugh. “I prefer to bottom,” I admitted, watching his reaction closely. “Always have. But that doesn’t mean I can’t—or won’t—top, if that’s what you want. This isn’t about one of us bending to the other’s preference. It’s about finding what works for us. Together.”

His brow furrowed slightly, like he was turning my words over in his mind. “You don’t mind?”

“Wynter,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “You’re the only person I’ve wanted in a very long time. If topping is what makes you feel connected, I’ll give you that. And if, one day, you decide you want me to take the lead, I can do that too. As long as we’re honest with each other, we’ll figure it out.”

He smiled then, slow and breathtaking, his hand resting on my chest. “I never thought I’d get to have this. To have you.” His voice dipped, quieter. “It feels… surreal.”

“Well,” I said, leaning down to capture his lips in a soft kiss, “you better get used to it. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

His laugh was low and warm, his arms sliding around me as he pulled me closer. “Neither am I.”

Wynter shifted beside me, propping himself up on one elbow. His fingers trailed absently over my chest, his touch featherlight but grounding. He looked thoughtful, like he was turning something over in his mind.

“There’s… one more thing,” I said, breaking the quiet. His eyes flicked to mine, curious but open. “I haven’t—uh—I haven’t been with anyone in over eighteen months.”

His fingers stilled against my skin, but his expression didn’t change—no judgment, just quiet attention.

“I got a full physical before retiring,” Wynter, “and they gave me a clean bill of health. No surprises. But I’ll still get tested again soon, just to be sure. For us.”

Wynter’s lips quirked into a small, soft smile. “You didn’t have to say that, but I’m glad you did.”

I reached up, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “I want this—whatever we’re building—to be as open and honest as it can be. No assumptions, no doubts.”

He nodded, his fingers starting to move again, tracing the line of my collarbone. “Do you… want to use protection?” he asked, his tone careful but not hesitant.

I considered the question for a moment before answering. “That’s up to you, Wynter. I trust you completely. Whatever you’re comfortable with, that’s what we’ll do.”

His gaze held mine, steady and warm. “I trust you too, baby,” he said quietly, like he was sealing a promise. “And if you’re okay without… I am too.”

A murmur escaped my lips, a plea for Wynter. "I need you... inside me."

His eyes widened, a soft gasp slipping past his lips. "God, Taran... I've wanted this. Dreamt of it. I'm afraid of messing up."

I quelled his fears with a reassuring smile, my voice just above a whisper. "Whatever you do, however you do it... it'll be perfect."

He gave me an uncertain nod and I took that as my cue to stand up, peeling off my clothes one by one in anticipation of what was to come.

Wynter's gaze roamed over my exposed body, awe flickering in his eyes. "You called me beautiful," he murmured, "but that title belongs to you."

Heat flushed through me at his words and my heart pounded against my ribcage like a bass drum.

Our tongues explored the expanse of skin presented before us; licking, sucking, nibbling on necks and shoulders while our hands caressed every inch available.

When our lips met again, there was no urgency now—just the slow press of our mouths, as if we had all the time in the world. His breath mingled with mine, warm and deep, a silent promise of what was to come. I felt his hands on my skin, hot and sure, as he reached for the lube, the slick sound of it filling the quiet space between us.

Wynter moved behind me, and I could feel the heat of his body pressing against my back. I reached down, taking myself in hand, my breath catching at the slow stretch of anticipation. When he lined himself up, I felt that first brush—slow, deliberate, the tip of him inching inside. My muscles clenched, trying to adjust to him, but he was patient, waiting until I gave him the nod.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I muttered, my words a little more breathless than I meant.

He chuckled, his lips grazing my neck, low and husky. “Keeping my fingers crossed that you’ll say that every time.”

I grinned, a bit dazed already. “It will always be true.”

I pushed my ass against his groin, silently giving him the nod to continue moving. Wynter slid the rest of his dick in to the hilt, his groin grounding against my ass.

His thrusts started slow, almost tender, like he was testing the waters, but it didn’t take long before the rhythm built—each movement deeper than the last, filling me in a way that left me gasping. My fingers tightened around my dick, my focus scattered by the overwhelming sensation of him inside me.

“I don’t think… I didn’t… oh fuck… I can’t think straight when you’re doing that,” I said, my voice breaking as I moved against him.

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