Page 102 of American Beauty

He pounds into me with single-minded focus—like he’s trying to erase every trace of anyone else, every doubt, every fucking mistake.

My hands fist the sheets, clutching with desperation, but it’s not enough. I need to hold him. Need him closer.

“Alex—” I say, reaching for him.

He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand, his other gripping my chin and forcing my gaze up to his. “Eyes on me. No looking away. I want you to know who you belong to.”

“I’m yours,” I say, the words ripped from some place deep inside me.

His face twists, wrecked and beautiful and so full of love it makes my chest ache.

“You’re mine.” Each thrust punctuates his words. “Always have been, always will be.”

My body clenches around him, spiraling closer to the edge with every brutal, perfect thrust. I’m so close I can sense it vibrating through every nerve ending.

He doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t soften. He gives me everything. All the anger, all the heartbreak, all the love he’s been holding inside.

“I fucking missed you,” he says, his voice cracking on the words.

A broken sob rips from my lips. “I missed you too.”

He pulls almost all the way out—then slams back inside me so deep I shatter around him, my orgasm ripping through me like a tidal wave, hot and violent, stealing my breath.

Alex curses under his breath, losing the last thread of control, pounding into me as he chases his own release. His body tenses above me, every muscle locked tight—and then he breaks, groaning my name like a prayer as he comes hard, spilling inside me with a shudder that makes it seem like it’ll never end.

We stay like that, tangled together, gasping for air, his forehead pressed against mine.

He kisses me—not rough, not punishing— but slow and aching and reverent.

“I love you, favorite,” he says against my mouth. “I’ll never stop loving you.”

Chapter 28

Alex Sebring

Magnolia lies across my chest,her fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against my ribs. She’s quiet, lost in that hazy place between exhaustion and contentment. Her warm breath whispers over my skin, her body relaxed, melted into me like she belongs here.

Because she does.

My arms tighten around her, an unconscious, possessive act, like my body is afraid she’ll slip away if I don’t hold on tight enough.

I stare at the ceiling, my mind still reeling.

I was rough with her. Desperate. I can still hear the way she gasped my name, feel the way her body arched beneath mine.

She took everything I gave her––every ounce of anger, frustration, and grief. But also every tangled, ugly thing I’ve carried since the day he stole her from my life.

Magnolia Steel is the only person who’s ever understood me without words. She always knows what I need.

Always.

I press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in her soft, feminine scent. She smells of barely there vanilla and cherry blossoms.

It’s been months since I held her like this, and yet it doesn’t seem that long ago. It’s as though I never let her go. Like time bent around us, refusing to move forward until we were back together.

Where we belong.

She shifts, her cheek pressing deeper into my chest. My fingers skate across the curve of her bare back, a lazy caress. There’s peace in this––in the quiet after the storm.

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