Page 54 of Seein’ Red

I need to feel him, all of him. Inside me.

“I need you,” I gasp, my breath heavy from my impending climax.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not close enough. I need you closer.”

I press my forehead to his, Nash’s hand claiming the back of my neck, holding tight as my hips move furiously, riding his fingers. He increases the pressure on my clit, sending me flying. I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out, my vocal cords overtaken by the intensity of the moment.

Nash doesn’t let up, holding on to me, seeing me through every last second of my orgasm.

“Closer,” I repeat, ragged breaths punctuating the syllables.

I reach between us, undoing his jeans. Toying with the elastic of his briefs, I start to slip my hand under them, but he grabs my wrist, stopping me.

“I don’t have a⁠—”

“Does it matter at this point?”

I suck in a breath, hoping my words don’t come off cold or jaded. They’re not. If anything, it’s an acceptance. That we’re doing this. Nash and I. Together.

“It’s your call, Willa. Always has been, always will be.”

My heart swells, a lump forming in my throat. I know Nash cares. I’ve always known that. It’s part of why everything hurt so much back then. But hearing it now—seeing it on display—is enough to break me. To take down all the walls I’ve spent years building. Brick by brick they went up. In one fell swoop they came down.

I don’t bother answering him. At least not with my words. Reaching into his briefs, I free his cock, stroking it hard. He lets out a guttural noise, sparking the fire in me all over again. I continue to stroke him, my complete focus on him as he shimmies his pants over his hips, giving me better access. The access I need for what I’m craving.

Him.

“Willa…”

My name on his lips sounds like a prayer, my body hovering over his, lining us up. He takes hold of me, guiding me down slowly. I whimper, relishing the full feel of him—the real him, nothing between us. It’s new, different, unexpectedly raw. Yet…the same.

Somehow, this is like our first time all over again. Only now, we know what we’re doing. There’s no weird fumble or awkward move. No bumping heads, or painful weight shifts. Our movements are in sync.

They’re also all-consuming.

The whole world fades away as Nash moves beneath me, the two of us finding a solid, steady rhythm. One that gives us everything we need, our gazes set on each other, unwavering. It's the most intense thing I’ve ever felt and I need more.

So, so much more.

Without looking away from me, Nash takes my hands—both of them—linking his fingers into mine. He squeezes, letting me know he’s here. That’s everything I need.

A dam breaks inside me, a flood of fire and feelings engulfing me. My skin heats up, all my nerve endings standing on alert, ready for action. It’s all I can take, our bodies in motion, doing all the talking for us. Saying all the things we can’t, haven’t, won’t.

All the secrets, lies, insults, and whatever else—none of it matters. The only thing that matters in this movement is him and me. The two of us. Against the world.

Pushing his hands backward and pinning them against the couch, I lean forward and kiss him. Hard. Deep. Passionately. I don’t stop, picking up our pace, chasing a euphoria that I hope is real.

“Yes, baby…”

There is it again. Baby. I’m done for.

“I’m close…but…I want…”

“What do you want?” he asks, his voice husky. It’s a familiar tone—the one that comes out only during sex, when he’s about to get dominant and put me in my place. A tone that is enough to drive me to the brink.

“Together. I want it together.”