Page 41 of Thawed Gladiator: Quintus
“Twenty-five years of bad sex to make up for,” I reply, nipping at his earlobe. “We have so much work to do.”
Later, tangled in damp sheets, we experiment, laughing and groaning in equal measure. Sixty-nine overwhelms me—giving and receiving at once, as if the only purpose of this night is to learn every way our bodies were meant to fit.
Finally, I ride him while he plays with my breasts, taking control of our rhythm while he watches my face with reverent attention.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, his hands spanning my waist. “So beautiful when you let yourself have what you want. What you deserve.”
This final joining is slow and intense, more about emotional connection than physical release. We move together with synchronized breathing, gazes locked, souls as naked as our bodies.
Dawn light filters through his window as we lie tangled together, thoroughly satisfied and glowing with the kind of exhaustion that comes from transcendent physical connection. My body hums with remembered ecstasy, every nerve ending still singing from hours of worship.
“You gave me more than I dreamed possible tonight,” I whisper, fingers tracing his scars. “You made me feel safe enough to explore parts of myself I never dared touch before.”
“And you gave me your trust,” he answers softly. “Your pleasure. Your heart. That is the greatest gift.”
His words are gentle but weighted with meaning that sends warmth blooming through my chest with something that might be recognition rather than panic. Heart. Yes, I suppose I trusted him with that too, didn’t I? Somewhere between demanding everything and receiving more than I ever imagined possible.
But as the endorphins fade and rational thought creeps back in, the magnitude of what just happened settles over me like a warm blanket rather than a cold threat.
“This terrifies me,” I whisper against his chest. “Feeling this much. Wanting this much.Caringthis much. What if I’m still not good at knowing the difference between love and need?”
His arms tighten around me, but gently, like he’s trying to anchor me without caging me.
“The difference,” he says quietly, “is that love doesn’t make you smaller. It honors who you are and supports who you’re becoming… We choose each other—one day at a time.” His hand strokes my hair with infinite tenderness.
“But what if I make the wrong choice again? What if my judgment is still broken?”
“Then we figure it out together. When you’re ready.” He tilts my chin up so I have to meet his eyes. “Nicole, I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to decide everything tonight.”
The patience in his voice, the complete absence of pressure, does something to the tight knot of fear in my chest. This isn’t coercion. This is partnership—real partnership.
“I don’t want to run anymore,” I whisper. “I’m tired of being afraid of the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Then don’t run. Stay. Let’s figure this out one day at a time.”
I press my face against his chest, breathing in his scent, letting his steady heartbeat calm my racing thoughts. For the first time since our reunion, I feel settled. Not because all my fears have disappeared, but because I finally trust that we can face them together.
“I love you,” I tell him, meaning it completely.
“And I love you. All of you. Including the parts that are scared.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “We have time, love.All the time we need.”
As I drift toward sleep in his arms, I realize this is what emotional safety feels like—not freedom from fear, but courage born of trust. Tonight, I am braver, bigger, more myself than I have ever been.
Tomorrow we’ll wake up together and figure out what forever looks like. Tonight, I’m exactly where I belong.
Chapter Nineteen
Nicole
I wake in Quintus’s arms with a clarity I haven’t felt in years. No panic. No regret. Just the quiet certainty that I’m exactly where I belong.
He stirs beside me, brushing his lips over my temple. “You were smiling in your sleep,” he murmurs.
“I feel… settled. Like my body finally got the memo that it doesn’t have to brace for disaster every second.”
His brow furrows, protective as always. “And you’re certain I didn’t push too hard last night?”
I laugh softly. “Push? Quintus, that was the first time in my life I wasn’t being pushed. I cherished every moment. With you, I don’t feel smaller—I feel more myself.”
