Page 108 of Make Me Mean It

Then the first tight press of his body starts to give.

“Fuck.”

His forehead drops against my shoulder, the harsh breath leaving him hot against my neck as every muscle in my body locks.

My palm spreads across the small of his back, holding him there while I fight every instinct telling me to pull him down.

He tries to sink lower, and my hands clamp around his hips, stopping him.

“Move,” he gasps, and the last of my restraint goes with it, my grip tightening as I pull him down onto me.

Theo tenses around me as I pull him down, and I hold him there, buried deep while his breath breaks hot against my neck. I give him barely enough time to adjust before my hips start moving, slow enough at first that I feel every drag of him around me.

Then Theo starts moving with me, my fingers clamping down around his hips as the rhythm turns harder, his broken moans spilling against my ear every time our bodies come together.

I’ve heard Theo laugh while someone was trying to punch him. Heard him mouth off to Marcus, coaches, anyone stupid enough to tell him what to do.

I’ve never heard him sound like this.

And now that I have, a hot, possessive part of me doesn’t want anyone else to.

“Con—I can’t—”

My hand closes around his cock again, stroking him in time with my hips. “You’re okay.”

I press my mouth to his neck, tasting salt against heated skin before my teeth catch lightly enough to make his whole body jolt against me.

“So fucking beautiful, baby.”

The words leave my mouth so easily I don’t realise what I’ve said until Theo goes rigid.

His curse breaks apart against my shoulder as he clenches around me, and then he’s coming, shaking in my arms while wet heat spills over my hand.

My rhythm breaks, a rough groan ripping out of my chest as I come inside him, arms locking around Theo and dragging him closer while pleasure crashes through me.

Neither of us moves, Theo heavy against me, all the tension gone from his body while I breathe into his shoulder and wait for my pulse to stop trying to beat its way out of my chest.

I slide both arms around his middle, shifting us higher against the bed, Theo settling straight back into me.

My fingers card through his damp hair.

“You with me?”

Theo lifts his head at my voice, eyes heavy and unfocused before they eventually find mine. He gives me a lazy little nod, and the sight of him like this presses painfully against the centre of my chest.

I kiss him.

There’s no urgency left in it now, just the soft press of his mouth beneath mine before I guide him back against me.

A few minutes ago he told me he’d never wanted anyone else calling the shots, and now he’s completely loose in my arms, trusting me to move him wherever I want.

Theo shifts against me, rolling onto his side until his head finds the space beneath my chin and one arm settles across my stomach. I keep running my fingers through his hair while his breathing grows slower against my chest, the same path over and over until I stop thinking about doing it.

Until it feels normal.

That’s the problem.

My fingers stop.