Page 156 of The Revenge Game
“Always have hope,” he replies as he takes off his glasses and puts them on the bedside table.
He settles back beside me, turning to face me, his dark lashes casting tiny shadows across his cheeks.
“I love you,” he says softly.
“Show me,” I whisper back.
And everything that comes after is all about Andrew showing me how much he loves me.
How carefully he touches me, his hands trembling in a way that makes my chest constrict with how much he cares about getting this right, about making this perfect for me.
The look in his eyes as he presses inside me holds such raw vulnerability and love that I have to close my eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the intensity.
The feeling of him inside me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced, both overwhelming and perfect, like finding a missing piece I never knew was gone.
His unsteady breaths match my racing heartbeat, creating a rhythm that feels like it belongs only to us.
It’s like we’re finally dancing to the same song after spending so long hearing different music.
Every nerve ending feels electrified, like my whole body is waking up to sensations I never knew were possible. The pleasure builds in waves that leave me gasping, my body arching instinctively to meet his careful movements.
Everything fades until there’s just us, just this, just the truth of what we are together.
The way he whispers my name against my neck, his lips grazing my pulse point in a way that makes me shiver.
My skin is hypersensitive to every touch, so when he finally gets a hand between our bodies to touch my cock, my whole body jerks like I’ve been shocked, a groan escaping me that sounds almost desperate even to my own ears.
Everything inside me turns molten, and my head falls back against the pillow.
And I realize that even though we’ve had great sex previously, Andrew’s always held back part of himself, trying to maintain some kind of control. But now he’s letting go completely, his careful reserve crumbling with every movement we make together.
I fall over the edge first, the pleasure radiating out in waves that leave me gasping and shaking, clinging to his shoulders like he’s the only solid thing in my world. Which in a way he is.
Afterward, he can’t stop touching me, pressing soft kisses to the slope of my shoulders, the curve of my neck, and the sensitive spot behind my ear.
“Make-up sex is incredible,” I say drowsily.
“What?”
“Well, we just had our first fight, didn’t it? So this was make-up sex.”
He props himself up on one elbow to consider me. “Our first fight was a bit of a doozy.”
“Yeah, let’s aim not to have another quite like this one.”
He shifts until we’re facing each other, our legs tangled. His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, and I can’t miss the mixture of wonder and love in his eyes.
Maybe we both actually needed this journey to get us to this moment in his childhood bedroom, where we’re finally completely ourselves.
Chapter Forty-Two
Andrew
It turns out that single beds aren’t designed for two grown men to get a good night’s sleep.
I wake up with Justin’s elbow in my ribs, my body contorted into a shape that would make a pretzel feel inadequate.
I’m finally living out my teenage fantasy of having a gorgeous football player in my bed, but I hadn’t factored in the logistics of adult bodies fitting in furniture designed for adolescents.
