Page 69 of Say You'll Stay

“And I still want you,” he replies. “Tell me what you need. Ifit’s only this, then I’m still the luckiest man alive. If it’s more, then I’ll do anything you want. Anything, sweetheart.”

She knows what she wants. What would ease her nerves and calm her fears, but asking him for that is selfish. “It’s not fair to you.”

“Lemme be the judge of that. Try me.”

She takes a deep breath. “I want to be closer.”

He’s quiet for a moment before asking for clarification. “Show me.”

She’s about to ask him for more restraint than she’s ever expected from anyone, but the way she craves him has her on the edge of a near panic attack and so she gives in, tracing the waistband of his boxers. “You can always say no, too. You know that, right?”

He nods. “I know.”

He doesn’t tell her no. Lets her help him remove the fabric until his cock is free and even only half hard, it takes her breath away. Long and thick, like she thought he would be. She assumed he was big all those times she felt him through their clothes, but reality exceeds what her imagination could conjure. The space between her legs aches for him all over again. She can’t have him there yet, but she wants to get as close as she can.

She peels off her underwear, turning in his arms to press her back to his chest, lifting one leg, and humming her approval as he slots his thigh between both of hers, and the length of him presses against her. Finally, her eyes slip shut and her body relaxes. She’s cocooned in the embrace of the only person she’s ever felt safe with, every inch of them touching.

He isn’t tense like she feared he might be at first. His muscles are loose and his arms snug around her, his body unmovingeven as his cock hardens further.

“I’ve got you.” It’s a promise pressed to her shoulder in a soft kiss.

A flush of wetness coats the length of him and he rubs his temple along hers. He never thrusts even once, perfectly content to lay here as long as she wants without begging for more, but she wants more.

She shifts her hips slightly. “You can move, just not inside, okay? Not yet. And not with your fingers.”

“I promise.”

When he rocks his hips against her ass, thrusting his cock along the seam of her opening, the swollen head catches on her clit. She has never felt anything better in all her life.

With his body warming her back, she lets her mind drift and go blank. They move together in gentle waves again and again, the rhythm slow but steady until a comforting build of tension spirals within her. They’re mimicking what they can’t do yet, but the sensations are close enough. Without warning, her orgasm hits, and a soft cry escapes from deep within her lungs while his arms tighten to hold her. The world contracts and convulses, and she spasms against him, widening her legs as if to draw him inside on reflex, unable to control herself. The tip of him brushes her entrance but goes no further, sliding back up to rub where she’s swollen until she’s boneless and lax on the bed.

Three, four…five thrusts later, the warmth of his release finds her lower belly before sliding down to the sheets, her name a breathless plea on his lips.

Well, that was unexpected.

It never happens that fast for her, and never without batteries.

“Stay,” she says. “Stay with me.”

And so he does, the two of them wrapped up together in post-orgasmic bliss.

She belongs to him like he belongs to her, she realizes, and for the first time that doesn’t scare her. It feels protective instead of controlling. Reverent instead of hostile.

“I used to think I didn’t have anything to offer anyone.” He muffles into her temple, his voice a low cadence. “That letting someone in was a mistake because I could never be enough. You make me feel like enough.”

“You are. You’re so much more than enough.”

As her thoughts drift and the warmth of his arm around her lulls her senses into a hazy half-dream, she can’t help but wonder how much different their lives would have been if they’d met sooner. Perhaps they fit so well now because both had been broken by others, two damaged souls only coming together when they need it the most.

* * *

The third tour, focusing on medical facilities, finds Olivia increasingly suspicious.

She has a feeling not everyone here is offered the same treatment. If the way Cole is side-eyeing Carlton from over a cluttered lab table is any indication, then she’s not the only one. The research they do here is interesting, though. She’ll give him that. Looking for a treatment that could reverse the virus either in the fever stage or after, once the host is already gone. That part doesn’t make much sense because there’s no cure for being dead, as far as she knows.

They’re even granted the leader’s name, Grant, and not amoment too soon when having to refer to him by a title was beginning to irritate her more than all this false hospitality. She suspects it’s a last name, not his first, but she’ll take it.

“Don’t get why you’re showing us all this,” Cole says bluntly. “We can’t help. Not doctors. If you have a cure ready, that’s another story but doesn’t look like it yet.”

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