Page 47 of My Grumpy Fire Chief Next Door
“I don’t have a condom.”
“It’s fine, I’m on the pill,” She whispers back, thrusting forward. “Now, hurry.”
“Thank fuck!”, and finally, I slide inside her.
Kate moves with me, hips tilting forward, matching every stroke with the same wild, desperate rhythm. She’s so damn tight around me, slick and hot, her body clenching like it never wants to let me go.
Every roll of her hips pulls me deeper, and I feel her walls flutter, gripping me in a way that borders on unbearable. I can’t hold back…I don’t even want to. I want to lose myself in her. Over and over.
I want to watch her come apart beneath me again, to feel her fall apart around me until her voice is hoarse from saying my name. My hands slide lower, gripping her ass, guiding her, dragging her closer, harder, until the pressure coils tight and sharp at the base of my spine.
My breath stutters out against her damp skin, and I press my mouth to her shoulder, voice rough and broken.
“I’m so close.”
She tilts her head, her eyes locking on mine; needy, dark, drowning me in that soft, wild look, and the moment her body clenches tight around me, the dam breaks.
The rush is overwhelming, white-hot, and all-consuming, stealing the air from my lungs as I empty into her, hips stuttering against hers, groaning through the raw, staggering release.
I feel her shudder against me, still pulsing, still wrapped around me, and for a few long seconds, it’s nothing but her; the softness of her skin, the soft, breathless sound of her voice, the way her fingers thread through my hair and hold me close like I’m the only thing tethering her to earth.
We both collapse on the couch, needing to catch our breath, and I’m not sure how long we remain in that position. But her legs remain wrapped around me, her thigh slung over my hip, the scent of her skin warm and faintly sweet.
Her breath feathers across my neck in slow, contented waves, and I feel it deep in my spine. My arm under her shoulders is going a little numb, but I don’t shift. Iwant to continue holding her.
Her fingers are still tangled in my hair, lazy, tender. It's not like she’s holding on out of need, but trust. As though she’s safe here.
That’s what unravels me.
Because this… thiscomfort, this afterglow, this peace in the quiet, it’s been years since I’ve had anything close.
Not even with Josie. I don’t remember it ever feeling this good. This right.
God, not like this.
I’d forgotten how it feels to fall asleep with a woman in my arms, her body soft against mine, breathing slow and steady like she belongs there.
A memory flickers: Josie in our old bed, her belly just beginning to swell. Her laughter lit up that room like she had no idea what was coming. My hand spread wide across her stomach, full of plans I couldn’t keep.
The memory lands like a punch to the gut. The pain is dull and hollow, similar to an old bruise that hurts after a long time.
I blink and come back to the present. ToKate, soft and real and right here.
And that’s the problem.
Because if I stay…if I let this be what I think it’s becoming, I don’t know how I come out of it in one piece if I lose it.
My jaw tightens. I try not to breathe too loud as I untangle myself carefully so I won’t wake her and won’t have to explain the fear roaring through my chest like I stepped off a cliff.
But the moment I ease my arm from beneath her, her fingers twitch.
Then her voice comes, groggy, slurred, but clear.
“Hey,” she murmurs. “What’s wrong?”
Shit.
Her eyes open slowly, searching my face in the dark, and I can’t hide the way I freeze.
