Page 100 of Finding Gideon
I wanted to answer, but words came out more like breath than sound. My hips arched off the bed when he kissed above the plug, his breath warm against the place where I needed him most.
“Still good?” he asked, gaze searching.
I nodded, panting. “Yeah. Just... Gideon.”
He smiled like he knew exactly what I meant. Then he reached for the base of the plug, twisting it slightly to increase the vibration.
I nearly sobbed. “Jesus.”
He laughed softly. “Not quite.”
The motion of the toy stirred something deep inside me—pleasure that built slow and intense, a heat that curled through my gut and down my thighs. My whole body was responding to him. For him. I felt pliant, yes—but not small. Not powerless.
Chosen.
Cherished.
His.
When Gideon finally slid the toy out, I shivered, muscles fluttering in protest at the loss. But then I saw him—reaching for the condom, pouring lube into his hand, stroking himself slowly while looking at me like I was the only thing that had ever made sense.
“Are you sure?” he asked again, voice low, reverent.
“Gideon. Please.”
He braced one hand beside my hip, the other guiding himself to my entrance.
“Breathe for me.”
And then?—
He pushed in.
I gasped, not from pain, but from the sheer intensity of it. The stretch. The slide. The way he filled me so carefully, so completely, my breath caught in my throat.
“Oh my—” My head tipped back. “Fuck, Gideon…”
He stilled once he was fully inside, his forehead pressed to mine. His breathing was ragged. His eyes were molten.
“I know you’re strong,” he whispered, “but I love you like this too. Soft. Open. Mine.”
My chest cracked open with that. Every part of me felt seen. Not just my body—but my everything.
“You can always be this way with me,” he added, voice shaking. “Anytime. Always.”
Emotion tightened my throat. I reached up, cupped his face. “Don’t stop. Please.”
He moved then—slow, measured thrusts that rocked me gently into the mattress. His hands mapped my skin like he was grounding himself in the present. Like this was the only moment that mattered.
The rhythm built gradually. He pressed deeper, his hips rolling, thrusting, his mouth finding mine between quiet gasps and whispered praise.
So good. So perfect. Just like this.
His words wrapped around me as much as his arms did.
I felt everything.
The drag of his cock. The heat of his body. The pressure of his weight where our skin met. The sound of my name in his mouth.
