Page 88 of Press Play

“Fuck, yes,” I growl.

I spill into her as she comes undone, my cock throbbing with each pulse of release, her body milking every last drop from me. I slide a hand into her hair, pulling her into a desperate kiss,swallowing her moans as she rides out every wave, our bodies locked together in shared, breathless pleasure.

Gripping her ass, I drive into her one last time as my climax shatters through me, a final, raw surge that leaves me lightheaded, spent, my heart hammering in my chest, echoing in my ears. I’m barely breathing, my body alive, buzzing, every sense heightened as I collapse beside her, a satisfied, primal desire flooding my veins.

As I lie there, my chest heaving, I glance over at her, feeling the lingering traces of pleasure, the remnants of her warmth pressed against me. We’re both still, our fingers loosely intertwined, our breaths slowing together, and for the first time in years, I’m utterly, blissfully complete.

Our breathing syncs, a slow rhythm that fills the room. I run a lazy hand along her arm, memorizing the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. I can’t help but pull her close, wanting to feel her heartbeat against mine, grounding myself beside her.

Wren’s face is flushed, her eyes half closed as she looks at me, lips parted, still catching her breath. She smiles softly, and I’m struck by the pure, unguarded beauty in her expression. Her hand finds my chest, resting just above my heart, and her fingers trace slow circles on my skin, an intimate touch that sends a shiver through me.

“You okay?” I murmur, brushing a stray piece of hair from her forehead, my thumb lingering there as I get lost in the depth of her gaze.

She nods, her lips curving into a smile as she snuggles into me, her head resting on my shoulder. “Better than okay,” she whispers, her voice warm, content. “I didn’t know... I could feel like this.” Her eyes meet mine again, and there’s a softness there, a vulnerability that warms my chest.

My heart soars, and I can’t help but flip over and kiss her. I’ll never tire of it. How she makes my skin tingle from one simpletouch. I can truly say I’ve never experienced anything like this, and it should surprise me that it’s happening with Wren, but it doesn’t.

I run my fingers through her hair, the silken strands slipping through my hand, and a part of me wants to say it, wants to tell her just how much she means to me, how long I’ve waited for this moment. But words are too small, too insignificant, so instead, I press a kiss to her forehead, hoping she can feel everything I want to say in that one simple gesture.

We lie in silence for a moment, wrapped around each other, and peace settles over me, a quiet I haven’t felt in a long time. She shifts, tracing her fingers over my chest, pausing to rest over my heart.

It’s strange, the way she feels so right against me. I’ve had countless moments like this, but this time... it’s as if I’m waking up to something that was missing all along. Wren isn’t just a beautiful, aching desire—she’s my quiet, my peace. For the first time, there’s no itch to fill some empty space.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” I finally say.

She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes wide, as if she’s surprised by the raw honesty in my words.

With anyone else, I’d already be pulling back, protecting myself from getting too close. But with her, it’s different—I don’t want to hide. Being here, wrapped around her, is like finally finding something I didn’t know I needed.

“You mean that?” she asks, her tone tentative, almost as if she doesn’t believe it, and a pang hits my chest, realizing how much I’ve kept from her all these years.

I take her hand, pressing it to my lips, my gaze never leaving hers. “I mean every word.” And I hope she sees the truth in my eyes. “It’s always been you, Wren. From the first moment... I’ve been yours.”

Her expression softens, her eyes filling with something I can’t quite name, and she leans in, pressing a kiss to my lips, slow and gentle, a promise. When she pulls back, there’s a tear in her eye, and she laughs, brushing it away with a shaky smile. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she murmurs, trailing her fingers down my arm, tracing every line, as if trying to memorize me.

“Well, now you do.” I pull her close, and we settle back into each other, wrapped in the quiet certainty that whatever happens next, we’ll face it together.

Tangled in each other, we let the world fall away, our only reality the steady beat of our hearts and the feeling of skin against skin.

“What now?” she whispers as our lips part.

“That depends.” I tilt my head.

“On what?” She arches a brow.

“On whether or not you want to be more than friends.”

Her mouth curves into a wide grin, sending my stomach into somersaults.

“That’s an easy answer,” Wren says.

“Is it now?” I try to suppress the smile that’s threatening to split my face.

“You’re going to make me say it?” She shakes her head. And when I nod, she chuckles. “I want to see where this goes, Theo.” Her tone lowers, and she doesn’t avert her eyes from mine. “I want to be more than friends.”

A mischievous thought comes to mind, and I purse my lips. “I’m not sure I feel the same.”

She punches me in the arm, and my jaw drops open.

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