Page 111 of Too Safe

I rock back and forth as he thrusts up into me, matching my pace. The tingles are right there. All it takes is a final glance at the way he spears me, and I’m detonating.

“Nicky,” I cry as a powerful, mind-melding warmth blossoms from my core and radiates throughout every limb. I’m lost to the world as I relish it all, consumed by a pulsing that just won’t quit.

Another shockwave hits, pulling a moan from deep inside me. The intensity of each ripple is just as strong as the last. I open my eyes in time to see Locke crane his head back, wearing a look of pure ecstasy as he growls out his own release.

After we come down, a peaceful silence settles around us as I catch his mouth in a kiss. We stay like that, me in his lap, him buried inside me, naked and sated and so damn happy. The ease I so often feel in his presence descends, and I’m hit with the earnest need to make him feel as desired and seen as he makes me.

“Best ride I’ve had in ages,” I quip, biting down on his bottom lip.

He smooths his hands up my bare thighs, bringing his thumbs together on top of my overly sensitive clit.

Beneath hooded lids, he peers up at me, then rests his sweat-slicked forehead on my chest and wraps me in an embrace.

“This wasn’t a one-time thing for me.”

He delivers it like a statement. But there’s a question hidden under the surface, and I want nothing more than to ease his concern.

Gripping the back of his head, I tug until he meets my gaze.

Solemnly, I shake my head, then clench around his cock for extra emphasis.

“I’m not a one-time kind of girl,” I assure him, leaning lower to seal my promise with a kiss.

Chapter 44

Josephine

IleaveLocke’sroomafter a few hours, closing the door behind me as he gently snores. It doesn’t count as sneaking out if I know I’ll see him in the morning, right?

My head’s fuzzy, like I’m still drifting in a post-orgasm haze, even though it’s been hours since he made me come. This week has just been… a lot. I need to figure my shit out, and fast.

Being with Locke felt so good and so right. We click. Every touch lights me up, and from the moment we met, we’ve had no trouble falling into a rhythm with one another. He’s effervescent happiness. There’s a brightness to him that I swear makes me feel lighter.

As I creep down the quiet hallway, I have every intention of going to my room, but my feet carry me past the door and to the end of the hall. And without conscious thought, I find myself climbing the stairs to the Nest.

I knock quietly, but there’s no response from the inside. I think it’s okay that I’m here. He would lock the door if he wanted privacy, right?

I enter the now familiar space and scan the dark room. The LEDs smoothly transition from red to blue to purple, the changing colors soothing in an inexplicable way. The Nest has become my comfort. An escape. It’s peaceful in a way no place has ever felt before.

When my eyes land on Kylian, where he’s lying on his bed, it hits me. It’s not the physical space that feels like a balm to my soul; it’s him.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he tells me without preamble.

That’s Kylian. He says what he means, and he means what he says. I never have to guess or decode his words. He is who he is. And because of that, I can be the realest version of myself when I’m with him.

He shifts over and holds out an arm, inviting me to join him.

I shuffle closer, then climb up and cuddle into his side. We both wiggle and rearrange until we’re comfortable. Without prompting, Kylian holds out noise-canceling earbuds.

I used his during the storm after the first game a few weeks ago. A few days later, a second pair appeared. This man. He anticipated that there may be a time we both need them. He expects that I’ll be a regular visitor in his private space.

I don’t want to be trapped in silence with my own thoughts right now, though, so I shake my head at his offer. He rolls over and stretches out, and when he settles again, he offers me a different kind of earbud instead.

The song he cues up is slow and sultry. A duet I’ve never heard before. He’s got it on repeat, and by the third time through, I hum along with the chorus.

My body settles, and my brain slows. Comfort and ease cocoon me. I reach for him, rolling to my side and nestling my head into the space between his arm and his chest.

He plays with my hair as I listen to the song and watch him breathe. His touch is methodical and repetitive. Soft strokes that soothe me until I’m half asleep in his arms.

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