Page 90 of Don't Take the Girl
"Tell me…tell me why."
He closes his eyes, and I hate it. I hate that he's shutting me out when I know he still cares. He's battling his desire, but beneath his resistance burns an undeniable hunger. The chemistry between us hasn't merely lingered. It has intensified to almost painful degrees. The years apart didn't diminish what we once shared. If anything, they transformed it into something more potent, more consuming. I know he feels it. When our eyes meet, the air itself seems to crackle with electricity. Each moment we resist our connection only heightens the ones like now. He just admitted I'm the only one he loses himself with. So that's what I'll do, make him lose himself until he finds his way back to me.
"But we already did," I remind him before softly pecking his lips with another slow roll of my hips. "Your release a few days ago is still inside of me. What's one more?"
The next thing I know, I'm on my back. "I know what you're trying to do, heartbreaker."
"Oh yeah, and what's that?" I question, wrapping my legs around his back.
"Make me lose control."
"Is it working?" I seductively tease.
"You know it is." He presses in deep, and the tiniest of moans passes through my lips on a pant. "But this is it. This is the last time. This can't happen again."
Something about the words he chose doesn't sit right with me, and I can't help but feel he means all of it. He's feeling everything and pulling away—or at least I think he is.
"Which part? Sex or the unprotected part?"
"Both," he says, and my heart fractures. He said he wanted to show me whatalwaysmeant to him. He kissed me in front of everyone at the party, claiming me publicly like he'd finally found his courage. I thought we were finally moving past the fear that's kept us circling each other since I arrived. "Or at least it should be." His voice drops, rough with something that sounds likedesperation. "But I don't think I'm capable of staying away from you."
There's a pause that stretches between us, heavy with everything we're not saying. His dark eyes search mine, and I can see the war raging behind them, his want battling with whatever demons he won't name.
"Forgetting isn't an option," he whispers, and the raw honesty in his voice makes my throat tight.
I want to plead with him to tell me what's keeping him from letting go, from coming back to me, but I don't because I don't intend for this to be our last time. If he's breaking now, he'll break again, and each time, I'll collect the pieces until there's no choice for him but to come back and let me make him whole again. If he’s still questioning whether we end, I have to prove that he’s wrong. We don’t end this time; this is just the beginning of his surrender.
"You feel so good," he pants, using his forearms to hover above me. "This body was made for me." I want to say I know. I want to repeat his words back to him until he realizes his own admissions. I'm made for him because I'm supposed to be his, and he's supposed to be mine. It's why we fit. He’s taking his time with me, moving inside of me in long slow strokes, letting my body acclimate to his length in this new position. He lifts my leg over his hip. "I want to feel every inch of you," he says, pressing in deep, his tip reaching depths only he has been. His head drops to my neck, and he bites the sensitive skin at the base, no doubt marking me just like he did last time.
"Your mouth seems to know something your mind won't admit," I tease, arching into him. "Marking your territory again?" He doesn't release the skin between his teeth. He takes his time, sufficiently holding me captive until he knows his mark will remain before running his tongue over the heated flesh.
His dark eyes find mine. "You make me forget every reason I should walk away.”
I blink away the sting of tears forming in my eyes and focus onthe man I have now. He doesn't want to stay away any more than I want him to. If my body can break down the walls he's erected around what remains of his heart, I'll gladly use it. There's a pain in his eyes when he looks at me, but not when we're like this. Right now, there's nothing but the man I used to have, the one who looked at me with pure love and adoration.
"Don’t look at me like that.” His lips press into a thin line. He doesn’t want to hurt me. He’s still protecting me while hurting inside. His hand glides down my thigh, adjusting my leg so he can press in deeper. “Territory implies I have a claim. We both know I don't."
"I don't know..." I trail off, my words dissolving into breathless gasps as he moves inside me with deliberate precision, each thrust dragging his tip over the spot that makes my vision blur. The rhythm is maddening, and he knows exactly what he's doing to me. "My body seems to disagree with that assessment."
My words are as calculated as the relentless pace of his thrusts. I know he can hear the intoxicating rhythm we're creating, our ragged breaths filling the space between us as the sound of our arousal filters up, just barely slicing through the thunderous beat of our racing hearts. I’m drowning in sensation. The salty taste of his skin, the way his muscles tense beneath my hands as my fingers drift down his strong back, the heat radiating between our bodies where we are connected. There’s no line of where he begins and I end.
I know he feels me too, the way I respond to every deliberate movement, every touch. I wrap both legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper, and he responds with a growl, driving into me harder, claiming what he swears he doesn't own.
"Fuck, do you hear how wet you are for me? Taking my cock like it's yours."
"It is mine," I say before I can think better of it. He might not be ready to claim me, but I'll lay claim to what is mine, and he will be mine. I'm not letting him go.
"Yeah?" he says, his eyes locking onto mine. It is neither a question nor a confirmation.
"Maybe you should look at what's always been yours and see for yourself how I was made for you the way you were made for me." His jaw flexes, his soft stare turning hard. He knows what will happen if he looks. There will be no denying the truth.
He pushes up onto his hands before pressing back onto his haunches, pulling me by the hips so we stay connected. I watch every emotion that flicks across his face as he watches his cock disappear inside me, slickened by the wetness he created. His eye twitches, and his fingers dig into my hips. "Mine," he grinds out through clenched teeth, his eyes never straying from our connection. I watch as he pumps into me, each stroke more irregular than the last as he struggles to hold on, fighting a release he's not ready to relinquish.
It's his fear, his need to protect, and his inability to stay away from me—the person he knows he loves most—that sends me spiraling. I said he was the person meant to be at my side, battling every war, and this…this is no different. Love is an eternal battlefield. The hardest battles are fought within, between the head and the heart. I refuse to lose again.
Seconds behind me, he falls over the edge with a roar ripped from his chest, a sound that feels like complete surrender. His body covers mine in the aftermath, two hearts thundering against each other like war drums.
We lie like that for long moments, neither of us moving, silent for fear of losing what was gained. I lose track of time in the hushed sanctuary we've created. Minutes blur into eternities as I listen to the beat of his heart against my ear and the heat of his skin seeps into mine until I can't tell where he ends, and I begin. But even as my mind fights against exhaustion, desperate to memorize every detail of this night, his voice cuts through the drowsy haze.
