And damn if it isn’t the realest thing I’ve ever said.

He smiles, but it turns into a groan.

“I don’t have any condoms,” he says, pulling away from my warmth.

It’s a split-second decision, but I do it anyway—I lock my legs around his torso, bringing him into alignment so the head of his cock can dip into me.

“I get the shot. And I’ve been checked since the last time I had sex. Which was…a long time ago.” I flush, heat spreading to my cheeks at my words…and at the mental image of Storm Sandoval pounding into me raw.

There goes my sheets.

“It’s been three months and sixteen days since I last had sex. I was tested during my physical last month, and I don’t have anything,” he replies, surprising me at how long he’s been celibate.

“Three months and how many days?” I reply, biting my lip with narrowed eyes. “That’s oddly specific.”

He rocks forward, his dick pressing against me in the most delicious way.

“Three months and sixteen days ago, I met you, Shae. I haven’t wanted anyone in the way I want you.”

My eyes stay narrowed, even though his confession makes me want to cry.

“No way, playboy,” I say, trying to tease him and thinking hard if I should trust him with my health.

Can I? Should I?

Silly bitch, this is how you end up on a PSA commercial.

“Yes way. I wouldn’t lie about something so important,” he replies, his voice getting more firm. “But we can wait until we can show results?—”

He pulls his hips back, but I lock my legs tighter.

“I trust you, Storm.”

My words tremble as I say them, but I can tell he hears and sees the truth in them, nonetheless.

“Are you sure, Shae?” He asks, lowering so that his lips ghost over mine. “Because once I’m inside you, that’s it. There’s no one else who gets this pussy but me. Understand?”

“Storm—”

“Do. You. Understand?” he repeats. He’s totally fucking serious about this.

“Once I fuck you, you’re all the way mine, Shae. No more dancing around our relationship. You’ll be my girl, and I’ll be your man. So what will it be?”

One heartbeat of silence. Then another.

“Make me yours, Storm. All the way.”

He drives my body up the bed when he slams his hips forward. I release a guttural moan as stars bloom behind my eyelids, and it’s like something in the universe clicks into place as we join together.

Storm and me, we’re written in the stars. I was right—it’s impossible for there to be a universe in which there’s no us.

Growling deep in his chest, he pulls back and surges forward, his balls slapping against me as he bottoms out, the head of his dick hitting the unmistakable knob of my cervix.

Made for me. He was made for me, as I was made for him.

“This feels insane, Storm,” I say, my voice breaking when he thrusts in again and then again.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, his voice almost animalistic, it’s so low.