Page 31 of You've Got The Love
We both pause for a heartbeat, shuddering against each other, and then she starts to move, rocking in my lap, riding me with desperate little rolls of her hips.
The barge sways with us, water slapping gently against the hull, and the world narrows to the wet sounds of her taking me, the rasp of our breathing, the occasional broken gasp of my name on her lips.
“God, Amber, you’re fucking killing me,” I groan, guiding her with my hands on her arse, but letting her set the rhythm as she chases her high again.
Her breasts bounce with every motion, and I can’t resist leaning forward to suck one into my mouth, making her clench tight around me.
I know I’m not going to last—six years without this,without her—and now that I finally have her, it’s almost too much.
Her rhythm grows frantic, desperate, and I can feel her trembling in my arms, chasing the edge.
“Bas—oh, God—” Her voice is a broken whisper, and I know she’s close.
I grip her arse and thrust up to meet her, deep and hard, and she cries out, clutching my shoulders like I’m the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
“Come for me, Amber,” I growl against her ear, my own control hanging by a thread.
Her whole body tightens, and then she shatters in my lap, pulsing around my cock, gasping my name over and over. The feel of her gripping me, milking me, sends me flying right over the edge with her.
“Fuck—” I groan, burying my face in her neck as I spill inside her, holding her tight as our bodies jerk together in messy, perfect release.
For a few moments, all I can hear is our ragged breathing and the soft lap of water against the barge. She slumps against me, boneless and warm, her cheek pressed to my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her, tucking her against my chest like she belongs there—and God help me, she does.
“Holy hell,” I whisper against her hair, still catching my breath. “I… might be dead now.”
She laughs softly, a tired, blissful sound that warms me all the way through.
We stay like that, tangled and spent, the lantern light flickering over bare skin, the world outside the barge holding its breath.
And for the first time in six years, I feel…whole.
I kiss her temple, letting myself linger in the quiet, even though I know the danger hasn’t gone anywhere.
But for tonight, on this rocking little barge in Amsterdam, she’s in my arms, and hope doesn’t feel like a lie anymore.
Chapter 17
Bastiaan
The morning after feels deceptively calm.
The sunlight cuts across the canal in golden ribbons, the barge rocking gently beneath my feet. Amber is still asleep, curled up in the sheets, her hair a golden halo across the pillow.
She looks peaceful. Like nothing could touch her here.
And I’ll be damned if I let anyone take that away from her.
I watch her for a second longer than I should—eyes fluttering beneath closed lids, the rise and fall of her bare back beneath the duvet. The curve of her spine, the way one knee pokes out from the tangled sheets.
My jaw clenches. It’s burned into me now. The sounds she made last night. The way she gasped my name, like it meant something. LikeImeant something.
Fuck.
I scrub a hand over my face and exhale hard through my nose. I shouldn’t have let it happen. I told myself a hundredtimes to stay away from her like that. That she deserved better. That if I touched her, I’d never stop.
And I didn’t.
Not when her body was arching beneath me, not when her fingers clawed at my shoulders like I was the only thing holding her together.
