Page 170 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2
He presses my wrists into the mattress, settles between my thighs.
“Let me remind you who you are,” he growls, and then he fucks me again.
This time is harder. Deeper. The stretch burns, and my voice is hoarse from crying out, but he doesn’t stop. He chases every sound like a man starved, devours every tremble, every shudder.
He flips me onto my stomach and pulls my hips up.
“Stay,” he growls, palm landing firm on my ass.
I do. Because I want to.
He sinks into me from behind, and everything else disappears. No grief. No guilt. Just heat and friction, and the sound of his breath rasping against the back of my neck as he takes what he needs.
What we need.
He fucks me like we used to—feral and focused. No soft edges. Just the savage kind of love that leaves marks and bruises and makes me feel alive.
I come again. Then again.
Each orgasm strips me down until there’s nothing left but the core of who I am.
Who we are.
When we finally collapse, tangled in sheets and sweat, I think we’re done.
We’re not.
Hours later, I wake to find him watching me, hard again, eyes dark.
He doesn’t say anything.
Just pulls me over him, guides me down onto his cock.
I ride him slow, hips rolling, his hands gripping mine as we find that rhythm again. The one we used to move in with Hank watching, Hank touching, Hank murmuring praise like a benediction.
My breath hitches. Gabe sees it.
He cups my face. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop remembering him. But don’t you dare stop loving me either.”
“I couldn’t,” I whisper. “I won’t.”
He grips my hips, thrusts up into me, hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. My moan is half a sob, half a scream.
We break again.
And rebuild.
And when morning comes, sunlight slicing across the bed, I wake to him spooned behind me, breath warm against my neck, hand splayed over my belly like he’s still holding me together.
I turn in his arms. Kiss him slowly. Deep. Hungry again, even now.
He rolls me beneath him, sinks into me without a word.
This time is different. Reverent. Lazy and tender, bodies moving in that soft early morning rhythm, skin slick, hearts steady.
When he comes, he buries his face in my neck and breathes me in like I’m the only thing that’s ever made sense.
We lie tangled in the aftermath, skin damp, muscles loose.
