Page 78 of Not For Keeps
I cup her face, thumb brushing her cheek. “I’d do anything for you both. Anything. Day or night.”
She leans her forehead against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. “You already have,” she whispers.
And in that moment, in her arms, I finally let myself breathe.
Chapter Twenty-Three
ANALYSE
We’re still wrapped around each other, clutching like the world might come undone if we loosen our grip. Mateo’s face is buried in the crook of my neck, his breathing uneven, his tears soaking into my skin. His hands are fisted in the back of my shirt like he’s trying to keep himself from falling apart again. I hold him tighter.
There’s nothing I can say that would touch the depth of what he just shared—of what he’s carried. So I stay quiet, letting the silence speak for me. Letting my presence say: You’re not alone anymore.
Eventually, the tremble in his body fades. His breathing begins to steady, still a little raw but no longer unraveling. When he finally lifts his head, the look in his eyes nearly undoes me. Red-rimmed. Shining. But soft. So soft it makes my heart ache.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” he murmurs, voice thick with leftover grief. “But being here with you…it’s the first time I’ve felt like I might be okay again.”
My heart swells and shatters at once. I press my foreheadto his, noses brushing, our breaths tangling in the quiet space between us. Then I kiss him.
It’s gentle, tender, like we’re both afraid of breaking the fragile thread tethering us together. But as his lips move against mine, I feel it shift. The kiss deepens, grows warmer. His hand cradles my cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing just beneath my eye. Like he’s memorizing me by feel. Like he needs this, needs me, to stay grounded.
When my fingers drift under the hem of his shirt, I pause, giving him the chance to stop me. He doesn’t. He lifts his arms, wordlessly letting me peel the fabric away.
Under the soft wash of moonlight, he looks unreal—broad shoulders, lean muscle. But it’s not just his body. It’s the look in his eyes, like I’m touching a part of him no one’s been allowed near in years.
“I don’t know if I deserve this,” he whispers, eyes searching mine.
I shake my head, threading my fingers through his hair. “You deserve everything good in this world.”
I pull him down to me again, and our mouths meet with more urgency. More need. It’s no longer gentle…it’s greedy, hungry. We kiss like we have lost time to make up for. Like we might never get another chance.
His hands move under my shirt, calloused palms sweeping over my bare skin, dragging a gasp from my lips. I arch into him, needing him closer, needing to feel all of him, all at once.
“Are you sure?” he rasps, voice shaking slightly.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I whisper.
Clothes fall away, slow and deliberate, piece by piece until nothing separates us. My body hums with anticipation, every nerve ending alive under his touch. His gaze drags over me like a caress.
“God,” he breathes. “You’re unreal.”
His weight settles over me, warm steady. I spread mythighs, and he nestles between them, his skin burning against mine. He groans softly at the contact, forehead pressing to mine.
“This okay?” he asks, breath ragged.
“More than okay,” I whisper. “Please.”
He reaches between us, lining himself up, and slides into me slowly. I gasp, my body arching as he fills me completely. He’s thick, warm, and overwhelming, and I feel everything. He stays still, forehead still against mine, waiting for me to adjust.
“You feel like home,” he whispers, and the words hit harder than anything else tonight.
I wrap my legs around his waist and roll my hips, urging him to move. “So do you.”
He begins to thrust, deep and unhurried, his strokes deliberate, like he’s trying to carve himself into my soul. I clutch at his back, fingers digging into his skin.
“Mateo,” I moan. “Yes. Just like that.”
He groans, his rhythm deepening, his mouth trailing down my throat to my collarbone, then lower. His tongue circles my nipple, sucking gently, and I cry out, hips lifting into his. Every part of me feels on fire. Needy and trembling and alive.
