Page 88 of Don't Puck the Wrong Brother

"You don’t want to?" I ask, confused.

He kisses me. "Trust me, I do."

I reach over and grab the condoms I bought for me and Cade. Shit, I push that thought out of my head as I grab one and open it.

"Then it’s settled."

He leans up and lets me roll the condom onto him. When I look up, his eyes are watching me.

"There," I mutter.

He kisses me with his tongue, and then his teeth pull my bottom lip. "I love your bottom lip, Han." He pulls back and puts his thumb in my mouth. It’s unexpected and hot as hell. "It’s so sexy. All I want to do is kiss it." He kisses me and then says, "Are you ready?"

In answer, I pull him down to me and edge my hips up. I can feel how hard he is against me, and the size of him is breathtaking.

"Tell me if I need to stop."

I nod as he aims into me.

"Just breathe and relax," he whispers, pressing into me.

My hands grip his shoulders. "Oh," I gasp. "Oh my god."

He stops. "Are you okay?"

I nod. "You’re just…so big."

He kisses me, working his tongue against mine. As he slowly pushes into me, making me climb up the bed from the pressure, his kisses relax me.

"You’re so beautiful, Hannah," he says, shoving deeper into me as I watch his eyes. "I’ve never felt this way about anyone."

And that line does it. He slides all the way in and groans into my neck.

"You feel so good."

I move my hips, and at every angle, I’m completely filled. He feelsso goodtoo, but I can’t find my words to tell him.

He moves slowly, carefully, watching my face for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. But there is none.

We find a rhythm together, unhurried despite the urgency building between us. My hands map the muscles of his back, the places where sweat gathers at his hairline, the tension in his jaw as he maintains control. His eyes never leave mine, this shared gaze another kind of intimacy I hadn't expected.

When release comes, it's not the lightning strike of before, but something deeper, more profound—a wave that builds and crests and carries us both through, my name on his lips, his on mine.

Afterward, he doesn't pull away, doesn't check his phone or make excuses to leave. Instead, he pulls me close, my back to his chest, his arm protective across my waist.

"Stay with me," I whisper again, not ever wanting him to leave.

I feel him smile against my hair. "As long as you'll have me."

The words hang in the quiet of my dorm room, heavy with promise. I know there are still complications—Cade, finals, whatever he has going on with hockey. But for now, in this moment, none of that matters.

What matters is the steady beat of his heart against my back, the gentle rhythm of his breathing as it slows toward sleep, the unfamiliar but welcome feeling of being completely, utterly safe in someone's arms.

I'm not naive enough to think this solves everything. One night of connection, however profound, doesn't erase the bizarre circumstances of our beginning or the challenges we still face. But it's a start.

As sleep begins to claim me, I find myself smiling into the darkness. For someone who prides herself on careful planning and methodical decision-making, I've certainly taken an unconventional path to this moment. But lying here in James Sanderson Connolly's arms, I can't bring myself to regret a single step.

Chapter 24

---