Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 45996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
"You feel so good," I tell her, voice rough. "So tight. So perfect. I could stay this way forever."
She moves her hips experimentally and I groan. I start to move then, slow deep thrusts that make her moan with every stroke. I keep my weight on my forearms so I can watch her face.
I pick up the pace gradually, one hand sliding down to grip her hip. "Look at you," I murmur. "Taking me so well. You’re so beautiful. I want to make you come again. I want to feel you clench around me."
I angle my hips to hit that spot inside her that makes her cry out, and she comes again with my name on her lips. The feel of her pulsing around me pushes me right to the edge. I drive deeper, chasing the edge I’ve been fighting to hold back. When it finally breaks, it crashes through me in a rush of sensation that leaves me breathless. I bury my face against her neck, holding on as it passes, her name a rugged confession against her skin.
We stay this way for a long moment, bodies still joined, hearts pounding. I can feel the ocean breeze coming through the window, cool against our sweat-damp skin. The sound of the waves is louder now, or maybe it seems that way because everything else has gone quiet except for our breathing.
I pull out carefully, discarding the condom. I roll to the side, pulling her with me so she’s tucked against my chest. She fits perfectly there. Her head on my shoulder, one leg thrown over mine, her hand resting over my heart. I stroke her hair absently, the strands soft between my fingers.
"That was..." she starts, then laughs softly. "I don’t even have words."
I grin against her hair. "Good. Because I plan on doing it again. Soon. Maybe in the morning before we leave for my mom's."
She tilts her head up to look at me, eyes soft in the dim light. "You’re already thinking about round two?"
"With you? Always." I kiss her forehead, then her temple, then the corner of her mouth. "You have no idea what you do to me, Sadie."
She’s quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest. "I’m scared," she admits quietly. "This was supposed to be pretend. Temporary. But it doesn’t feel temporary anymore."
I tighten my arm around her. "It’s not. Not for me. I don’t know what happens after the concert. After we deal with my father and whatever mess he’s in. But I know I want you in it. Whatever comes next."
She doesn’t answer with words. She presses closer and kisses my chest, right over my heart. We lie this way for a long time, the ocean keeping time outside, the room growing darker as the night deepens. My body’s relaxed in a way it hasn’t been in months. The shock of seeing my father, the questions still spinning in my head, the worry about tomorrow's visit to my mother. It all feels a little farther away with Sadie in my arms.
I think about her beneath the lighthouse, confessing she was falling. I think about the kiss that came after—the moment she stopped resisting what had been building between us. I think about her here in my arms now, warm and soft and trusting in a way I never thought I’d have.
For years, I’ve chased threats, protected strangers, and kept my distance from anything that could matter. I was good at surviving. Good at walking away.
Then she came along.
I didn’t plan for her. I didn’t see her coming. But now that she’s mine, I’m not letting go.
Eventually her breathing evens out and I know she’s fallen asleep. I stay awake a little longer, watching the play of moonlight through the blinds on her hair, feeling the steady beat of her heart against my side. Tomorrow we drive to see my mother. The day after that we face my father at the concert. There are still so many unknowns. But right now, with Sadie asleep in my arms and the sound of the ocean filling the quiet, I let myself have this one perfect moment.
16
Sadie
I wake slowly, the sheets still warm from the night before, tangled around my legs, and the spot beside me is empty but the pillow still holds the shape of Jace's head. My body feels pleasantly sore in the best way, a reminder of last night. Every single second of it. How he held me close, and I swear I never wanted to let him go.
I stretch, the cotton sheets sliding against my bare skin, and listen. Somewhere in the kitchen there’s the soft clink of dishes and the sound of Jace moving around. He’s already awake. Making breakfast, from the sounds. The faint sizzle of something on the stove. The scrape of a spatula.