Page 56 of Life After You

Words escape me. I feel at a loss as my back slides up and down against the cold, hard wood. A finger enters me, his grip adjusting, and my mind blanks. My body takes over. I begin to claw at him, half-mad with desire. But this... this won’t do. I need more. I need him inside me.

Unhooking my leg, I push him back with a growl, desperate.

His alluring smile falters as I lock eyes with him, losing myself in the depths of his gaze. I slide my hands down, pulling his zipper open, already familiar with the heat of him. My fingers slide into his boxers, pushing them aside, and his cock springs free, hot to the touch. I see the flicker in his eyes, a brief moment of surprise as my hand wraps around him.

I lift my legs, wrapping them around his waist, feeling the strength in his arms as they easily support me. My pulse quickens, a raw need driving me as I guide his rigid cock to my entrance. The first slow roll of my hips makes my body hum with anticipation, but it’s not enough. I need him deeper. I lean in, my teeth grazing his collarbone, biting down with a soft growl, and that’s when his hands grip my ass, lifting me effortlessly before slamming me back down on him.

The sharp, intense stretch of him fills me completely, and my body quivers with the overwhelming sensation. If I hadn’t already come, the fit might have been a struggle, but I’m ready for him. I want him. I need him. His cock presses deep, and the feeling of him inside of me sends shivers of pleasure that make my head spin.

The look in his eyes shifts—worship, awe. I’m not sure who’s worshipping who in this moment, but the thought of him emptying himself inside me makes me lose all sense of time. It’s all I can think about as my hips begin to move again, faster now, desperate. I want to ride him until I pass out from exhaustion or until his knees buckle beneath us, leaving him a pile of wanton, breathless desire.

"Angel," he mutters, his voice hoarse, kissing me with a wild intensity. "You’re so fucking beautiful."

With each thrust, I feel myself slipping further, losing grip on everything but the need to feel more, to drown in this moment, this pleasure. I don’t want it to end.

The night was a blur of fire and electricity, a perfect storm of passion that I never thought I’d experience. Everything about it—the way he touched me, the way he made me feel—was the most alive I’ve ever felt. I can’t remember a time when I’ve felt more wanted, more needed. I thought I was lost in him, but in reality, he brought me back to myself in a way no one else ever had.

When it’s over, I’m breathless, my body trembling and sore from the intensity of it all, but I’ve never felt more content. The haze of pleasure slowly lifts, and I’m left in a daze, my heart still racing, my body humming with the aftermath. He doesn’t move away, though. He keeps me close, holding me like I might slip away if he lets go.

By the time we make it to the bedroom, the world outside doesn’t matter anymore. The sheets are tangled around us, a mess of limbs and heated skin, our bodies slick with sweat, the air thick with the scent of us—intimate, raw, perfect. His hand slides down my side, tracing the curve of my waist, and I let out a content sigh, my eyelids heavy from exhaustion and satisfaction.

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering as if he never wants to leave. His touch is gentler now, a stark contrast to the fire we just shared, and it feels like he’s grounding me, bringing me back down when I’m sure I could float away.

I shift in his arms, curling into him as he pulls the blanket over us, wrapping us both in its warmth. He holds me tighter, as if protecting something fragile, and for the first time in a long while, I feel safe—completely, utterly safe.

He pulls me close, his lips brushing the top of my head, murmuring something unintelligible against my skin.

He doesn’t rush away. He doesn’t let me go. Instead, he’s all hands, gentle and tender, as he eases me into a seated position, his eyes never leaving mine. “You good, angel?” His voice is soft, almost like he’s afraid to break the spell we’ve cast around us.

I nod, my body still trembling from the aftershocks, and he smiles like he’s won a victory, even though I’m the one who feels like I’ve won everything.

He stands, pulling me up with him, and I’m a little wobbly on my feet. He catches me effortlessly, steadying me with a firm grip around my waist. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

His hands are so careful, as if I’m the most delicate thing in the world, and it makes me want to melt into him all over again. He guides me to the bathroom, his body warm against mine. We step into the shower, the steam billowing up around us as he reaches for the soap. His hands move over me with slow, deliberate care, washing away the remnants of our night together, but it feels more intimate than anything we’ve shared yet.

I close my eyes, savoring the warmth of the water and the way he’s touching me—his fingers gliding over my skin like he’s memorizing every inch of me. His touch isn’t rushed, like he has all the time in the world.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing as he rinses me off. His eyes meet mine with a tenderness that makes my chest ache.

“You’re not,” I breathe, not trusting my voice to say more. The truth is, I feel safe with him in a way I never thought I’d feel with anyone.

When he’s done cleaning me, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, slow and gentle, like we’re the only two people left inthe world. It’s a stark contrast to everything we just shared, but it’s exactly what I need.

He dries me off carefully, as though I might break if he’s too rough. Once he’s done, he wraps me in a towel and pulls me to the bed. He doesn’t let go of me, doesn’t let me slip away, and I don’t want him to.

We lay there in silence for a while, just breathing, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin.

Finally, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Best night of your life?”

I nod, unable to form the words. I feel like I’ve just been reborn, and it’s all because of him. He’s taken care of me in ways I didn’t even know I needed.

With a small, satisfied smile, he pulls me closer, tucking me against his chest, and we fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten for just a little while longer.

Chapter Fourteen

Logan

Mac sleeps beside me, tangled in her sheets, breathing us in with every slow rise and fall of her chest. I should sleep too, but I can’t. I won’t. Not when I have this—her.

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