Page 64 of Major Penalty

“So should you,” she whispers, slowly walking to the empty chair beside me. Her movements are slow and careful as she lowers herself onto the chair with a wince. I can’t help myself. I grin at the sight, knowing what she feels between those legs.

“That good, huh?”

She shoots me a look that’s half-glare, half-blush, her cheeks glowing in the moonlight, eyes gleaming when she looks away.

But as shy as she wants to play it, we both know she loved every second.

She came to me. She wanted it to happen.

I shake my head slowly, and she narrows her eyes in confusion.

“Come here.” I lift my hand and pat my thigh.

She hesitates, glancing at my lap, but rises anyway.

With a wince, she lowers herself onto me, her breath catching as she settles. A sharp reminder that I’m still with her, even when I’m not. Her body remembers. Her thighs, her breasts, her mouth—every inch of her.

Satisfaction spreads through me. It’s deep, pleased, and possessive. I wrap one arm around her waist, the other curling up to her nape, and tilt my head just enough to brush my lips against her neck.

She’s warm in my lap, tucked in like she belongs there. My shirt hangs off her like it was always meant to, and a part of me never wants to see her in anything else.

She watches me smoke, eyes bright with unspoken words. Too bright for what we just did. She’s still soft with the afterglow, floating in that post-pleasure haze—but awareness is creeping back in. She shifts slightly, looking at me like she has a question she’s afraid to ask. “Yes?” I drawl lazily, already knowing what she’s about to ask.

“Can I have some?” she asks, looking at my cigarette.

I glance down and raise a brow.

“Have you ever smoked before?”

She shakes her head, eyes dropping to the cigarette in my hand.

My lips curl into a small smile. She’s asking for me to corrupt her even further.

“A night of firsts, huh?” I murmur, more to myself than her.

Her response is a shy smile as she bites her bottom lip.

I turn the cigarette between my fingers, the cherry burning steadily in the dark, and bring it to her mouth.

“Just a tiny drag,” I say, my voice low. “Don’t inhale fully.”

She nods, her trust in me so fucking clear that I can’t stop the warmth spreading through me.

She wraps her lips around the filter—innocent and sinful all at once—and takes a small breath in. Then starts coughing hard. I can’t stop the smirk from pulling at the corner of my lips as I rub lazy circles against her bare thigh, just above where the hem of my shirt ends. It’s a reflex, the kind I don’t even think about.

“That’s enough.”

“You make it look better than it feels,” she says between coughs, a little embarrassed.

I don’t say anything; I just press the cigarette to my lips, finishing it with the last drag, the heat sitting heavy in my lungs. I flick the ash and drop the rest into the tray, the smell of smoke mixing with the salt from the ocean.

I turn to look at her, and she’s already curling into me, her legs drawn up, head resting on my chest. She fits there too well. Like this was made to happen, like this is exactly where she’s supposed to be.

I drag my palm up and down her back, absently at first, just a touch to settle her. Then I follow the curves of her spine with my hand. I feel the soft rise and fall of her breath. She’s quiet, but I can feel how her body is relaxing into me. Even after everything that happened. Even after all the shit I’ve put her through. I don’t think I’ve earned that trust. I don’t deserve it, but she gave it to me anyway. And now? Now, I’m going to protect it with everything I have.

The city hums below, quiet and distant. And I can’t stop touching her.

I don’t even realize I’m doing it anymore. My hand moves slowly along her back, tracing it like it’s a path I never want to forget.

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