Page 21 of The Cruise Back to You

“Okay?” I ask, searching his face.

“More than okay. Don’t stop.”

I push inside slowly, giving him time to adjust. He’s so warm, so tight, and when he lets out a soft moan, it takes everything in me not to rush. When I add a second finger, he arches into my hand, chasing the sensation.

“God, I missed this,” I breathe against his neck. “The sounds you make. The way you move. Everything.”

“Less talking,” he manages, his voice strained. “More doing.”

I laugh softly and add a third finger, stretching him with patient, deliberate strokes. I watch his face, the way his eyes flutter closed, the way his lips part, the way his whole body responds to my touch. By the time I withdraw my fingers, he’s trembling beneath me.

“Colter. Please.”

I don’t make him wait. I slick myself up and position myself against his hole, pausing just long enough to meet his eyes.

“Ready?”

“Fuck, yes.”

I push in slowly, inch by inch, and the feeling nearly undoes me. He’s perfect. He’s always been perfect. When I’m fully seated inside him, I still, my forehead dropping to his.

“You feel incredible,” I murmur. “You always feel so incredible.”

“Move,” he begs, wrapping his legs around my waist. “Please, Colter. Move.”

I do.

The first thrust is slow, careful. The second is deeper. By the third, we’ve found our rhythm—a push and pull that feels as natural as breathing, as inevitable as gravity. I brace myself above him, one hand tangled in his dark hair, the other gripping his hip.

“Harder,” he gasps. “I need more⁠—”

I adjust my angle and drive into him, and when he cries out, nails raking down my back, the sound goes straight through me. I want to hear that sound forever.

“That’s it,” I pant. “Let me hear you. Want to hear everything.”

I set a relentless pace, each thrust pushing us higher. The pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter, and I can feel him getting close in the way he clenches around me, the way his breathing turns ragged.

“Colter— I’m so close⁠—”

“Me too.” My rhythm falters, grows more urgent. “Come with me. Want to feel you.”

I wrap my hand around his cock, stroking in time with my thrusts, and that’s all it takes. He shatters with my name on his lips, and the feeling of him coming apart around me pulls me over the edge. I bury myself deep as I spill inside him, his name torn from my throat.

For a long moment, neither of us moves. We just breathe together, foreheads touching, hearts pounding against each other.

“I love you,” I whisper into the space between us. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too.” He presses a kiss to my jaw, my cheek, the corner of my mouth. “I’m never letting you go again.”

“Good.” I smile, and my chest feels so full it might burst. “Because I’m not going anywhere. Not ever again.”

I pull out gently and collapse beside him, immediately gathering him into my arms. The beds shift beneath us, and his foot slips into the gap between the mattresses.

“We need to fix that,” he mumbles against my chest.

“Later.” I press a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in the scent of him. “Right now, I just want to hold you.”

He relaxes into me, his body warm and solid against mine. The ship hums beneath us, carrying us across the ocean toward a new destination.