Page 174 of Lose You Twice

“I haven’t either.” I feel him get harder against my thigh. I lower my hands to his hips, lifting my own to urge him to move. “I need you inside me. Please.”

He groans, shifting slightly to line himself up with my entrance before carefully sliding inside. We both moan at the contact, fitting together perfectly, like we always have.

“Yep. I’m positive your pussy was made for my cock.” He buries his head in my neck again. “So fucking perfect.”

He starts to move, and I’m done for, pulled under by a tidal wave of want and desire. The heat and weight of his body on top of mine, the rhythm of his hips as he slides his cock in and out, seeming to hit every sensitive spot possible.

My breathing turns shallow, both of us panting, as he continues to work me over. My hands roam his shoulders before finding purchase in the hair at the base of his neck, before pulling his lips to mine.

I pour every ounce of emotion I’m feeling into our kiss, and when I deepen it, he takes over like he’s been waiting for permission.

28

KAI

Wren is beneath me in my bed, hair spread across my pillow, lips swollen from mine, cheeks flushed in the low light. My shirt is somewhere on the floor. Hers too. Her nails press lightly into the back of my head, gently tugging at my hair, and every inch of me is so aware of every inch of her that it takes effort to breathe evenly.

I’ve wanted her for years.

That’s the truth I’ve been hiding and also running from. Behind every practice and workout and routine I used to keep myself from thinking too long about the girl who I stopped calling. Missing the piece of me that belonged to Wren felt like nursing an old injury that only ached when the weather changed.

Except she came back, the weather hasn’t changed, and I’m aching in a way I don’t know I’ll survive.

I follow her cues, listening when her breath changes. Going willingly when she pulls me closer. Letting her see what she does to me instead of pretending I’m not wrecked by it.

Because I am.

Completely.

I pick up my pace, making sure to roll my hips enough to add friction to her clit, and the way her body is moving tells me she’s close.

“You gonna come for me, Freckles?” I whisper. “I’ve got you; let go.”

She pulls my lips down to hers, and I groan into the kiss as I feel her tongue asking for entrance that I don’t deny.

I groan into her mouth, and that’s enough to push her over the edge. Her pussy squeezes around my cock as her orgasm hits. My hips move faster, chasing my own release, and with a few more strokes, I come long and hard, burying my face into her neck.

Wren Calloway is going to kill me in my own bed, and I am going to thank her for it.

I gently roll off her, doing my best not to crush her, but her arms tighten around my neck.

“Where are you going?” Her eyes are still a little dazed, but her body is relaxed.

I kiss her hair. “I’m just moving off of you. I don’t want to crush you.”

She huffs. “You’re not that heavy.”

I chuckle, scooting down and bringing her closer to my side before pulling a sheet up over us. We lay there for a moment, Wren’s fingers drawing lazy patterns across my chest, and I decide this must be what heaven is like.

Dreading her answer, I ask, “Do you need to go home tonight?”

I hope she doesn’t, but if she does, I’ll take her. If she wants to stay, I’ll keep her. The wanting on my side does not get to become pressure on hers.

She shakes her head, and I let out a breath of relief. “No, my mom is home today and doesn’t work until tomorrow afternoon.”

“So you’re staying?”

“If that’s okay with you, yes,” she says, slowly pulling out of my arms. “But I do need to clean up.”