Page 118 of One Last Encore

"Perfect," he rasped, pressing a kiss to the scars on her hip, his breath hot against her skin. The softness of his voice sent a shiver spiraling through her, resonating in places she hadn’t realized were yearning for his touch.

His lips trailed over her scars with slow, light pressure. Not a flinch. Not a pause. Just worship. He moved to the other hip, giving her the same treatment. His kisses soft, aching with care, like he wanted to kiss away the pain she still carried.

She felt it then, not just love in his touch, the weight of his acceptance. He wasn’t just learning her; he was embracing every part of her. Not to possess, but to honor.

Warmth bloomed in her chest, dizzy and sweet. It wrapped around her, a rush of safety, of belonging, that caught in her throat. She felt wide open, but not scared. Bare, but never ashamed. Only Beck made her feel like this, like even the messiest, hidden parts of her were something beautiful. Something he saw. Something he wanted.

She couldn’t hold back any longer. She tugged him up, crashing her mouth to his. She poured everything into the kiss: gratitude, the fierce, aching love that had always been his.

They fumbled with buttons and zippers, tugging clothes away in frantic pulls. Beck finally kicked free of his jeans and briefs, muscles taut and flushed, and reached into his jean pocket fora condom. Ingrid barely registered the movement, she was too busy staring. She’d seen his cock before, but still. He wasbig, every inch of him thick, hard, and ready.

Beck caught her hesitation instantly. His hand covered hers, warm and solid.

"Hey," he murmured, coaxing her gaze to his. "We don’t go anywhere you don’t want to. We take this at your pace, yeah?"

She nodded, and he brought her hand to his chest, pressing it over his heart.

"Feel that?" he whispered. "That’s for you. All of it."

Her throat tightened, emotion catching somewhere between her ribs. He kissed her slowly, like there was no rush, like she was worth the wait.

When she nodded again, stronger this time. He rolled the condom on with trembling hands, then settled between her thighs, eyes never leaving hers. The thick heat of him nudged her slick entrance, slow and steady, and she moaned softly, her body already pulsing with need.

"I’ve got you," he said again, lower now, voice rough with restraint. "We go slow."

He pushed in gently, inch by inch, giving her time to stretch around him. Her breath caught at the delicious burn, the fullness, the way he filled her like he was made to fit. Her body clutched around him, greedy and pulsing, her thighs trembling as she adjusted to the fullness of him.

"Fuck," Beck breathed, forehead pressing against hers as he held still, his arms bracketing her body protectively. "You’re so tight… but so perfect. You’re doing so good, Baby. So good."

He stilled, giving her time, his hands caressing her sides, her breasts, thumbs brushing over stiff, aching nipples. He was so big and he went deep, deeper than she thought she could take, until he was fully seated, the tip of him brushing that spotinside her that made her toes curl. When she rocked her hips, he groaned like he was barely holding on.

"You sure?" he asked again, voice tight with the effort to stay still.

"Please," she whispered. "Don’t stop."

That was all he needed. He pulled back slowly, then rocked into her again, deeper this time.

"That’s it," he rasped against her ear, thrusting shallowly once, twice, before pulling back and driving into her. "Look at you, taking me so well. You feel like heaven, Ingrid."

She cried out, clinging to him, nails digging into his shoulders as he fucked her slow and deep, every movement dragging across every nerve ending she had. He moved with her, building a rhythm that stole her breath, each thrust driving her higher. His mouth found her neck, her breasts, worshiping her with every kiss, every bite, every broken sound.

The friction, the fullness, the sweet, torturous pace, it was too much, and not nearly enough.

"More," she gasped. The heat between them built fast, relentless, each deep stroke setting her nerves on fire. Beck’s teeth grazed her shoulder, his arms caging her in, holding her like she was something precious even as he wrecked her without mercy.

He kissed her, lips bruising, tongue demanding. "Look at me," he said, voice rough and low, hips never still. "I want to see your face when you come."

Her eyes met his, pupils blown wide with lust, lips parted on a moan as he changed the angle, hitting that spot again and again until she was a writhing mess beneath him.

"You like that?" he panted, fucking her harder, deeper. "You gonna come for me, pretty girl?"

"God, yes," she gasped, nails digging into his back. "Don’t stop. Right there, Beck."

Then he hit that spot dead-on, sending white-hot pleasure lancing through her.

She convulsed around him, her orgasm crashing into her so hard her vision blurred, stars dancing behind her eyelids. Her body clenched tight around him. Beck cursed, hips stuttering as she milked every drop of control from him. He thrust into her harder, faster, each stroke pushing her higher, the slaps of skin on skin ringing out in the dim, snow-muted room.

He caught her mouth in a savage kiss, swallowing her cries, moving with her, through her, like they were one tangled, desperate being.

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