Thank fuck.

I make quick work of the rest of our clothes, watching the way she shivers beneath me, eyes wide, lips swollen.

I take my time, sliding my hands over every inch of her, memorizing the way her body reacts to mine, the way she gasps when I kiss my way down her stomach and the noise she makes when I nip at the inside of her thigh. I love the way she writhes when I finally give her what she needs, tasting her, dragging her closer until she’s falling apart beneath me.

And that sound—her breathless little whimper when she shatters—I’ll never forget it.

I press a kiss to her hip, then move back up, catching her mouth in a slow, deep kiss. Her fingers trace down my chest, over the hard lines of muscle, and when she wraps her legs around me again, pulling me closer, I nearly lose my damn mind.

No more waiting. No more distance.

I shift between her legs, lining myself up, but the second my tip presses against her slick heat, she tenses. Her breath hitches, fingers digging into my shoulders.

I freeze. “Ivy?”

She swallows hard, her cheeks flushed. “It’s just…I mean, you’re—” She flicks her gaze down between us, then back up, looking both nervous and wrecked with want.

I huff a quiet laugh, pressing my forehead to hers. “You’ve seen me before. First time we met, if I recall correctly.”

“Yeah, and I wondered how the hell that’s supposed to fit inside a person.” Her voice is half teasing, half serious, her thighs squeezing instinctively around my hips. “You’re…big isn’t even the right word for it. That thing is a monster. There’s no way that’ll fit.”

I drag my mouth along her jaw, nipping at her skin. “You can take me, baby,” I murmur. “But we’ll go slow.”

I slide my fingers between her legs, finding her soaked and ready, but I don’t rush it. I stroke her gently, working her open, teasing those breathless little whimpers from her lips. When I push one finger inside, then two, her body tightens around me, but she’s already melting, rocking into my touch.

“Feel good?” I ask, my voice rough.

She nods frantically, arching into me, her nails leaving little crescent moons on my shoulders. “More,” she whispers, and fuck if that doesn’t make me harder.

I take my time, making sure she’s ready, savoring every sound she makes. I need her desperate, need her mindless with it. And when she finally starts begging—Hank, please—I know she is.

I pull my fingers away, guiding myself back to her entrance. “Breathe for me, sweetheart.”

She exhales as I push inside, slow at first, savoring the way she stretches around me, the way she gasps and clings to me like she never wants to let go.

Neither do I.

I start to move, slow and deep, setting a rhythm that has her gasping my name over and over. Her nails rake down my back, her body lifting to meet every thrust, and I can’t hold back anymore. I grip her wrists, pinning them above her head, claiming her in every way a man can claim a woman.

She’s everything I didn’t know I needed.

I drive into her harder, deeper, chasing the edge until I feel her tighten around me, her body shaking as she comes apart. The sound of my name on her lips, breathless and broken, sends me right over with her.

Afterward, I don’t move. I stay right where I am, my forehead resting against hers, our breaths mingling, our bodies still tangled together.

I should pull away.

But I don’t.

I just hold her tighter, knowing damn well I’ll never be able to let her go.

Chapter 28

Holt

I’m cracking eggs into a bowl, whisking them like I’m auditioning for a cooking show—probably more than I need to, but hell, it’s the only thing keeping my hands busy right now. My hands are steady. I’ve done this a thousand times after all.

But my mind? That’s a whole different beast. I’ve been awake for a whole fifteen minutes, and already, the air’s got this weird, heavy vibe hanging around. It's like the whole damn house is holding its breath.