She shifts under me and makes a needy noise in the back of her throat. “Will you be in me?”
I drop my forehead to hers. “Do you want me to?”
“It’s a need, not a want.”
I don’t know why her words strip me down. “You’re sure?”
“I’ve always been sure, Kodiak.”
“Let me get a condom.” I reach for my discarded jeans, hoping I remembered to put one in my wallet.
“I’m on the pill.”
I freeze and meet her searching gaze. Questions I have no right to ask sit on my tongue.
She arches a brow in challenge. “Unless you think it’s a bad idea.”
“I haven’t . . . there hasn’t been—” I haven’t been with anyone since she arrived in Chicago. And I’ve always used condoms, but I don’t want to have to admit that to her and risk ruining this. “Condoms are safer,” I grind out. But even as I say it, I ease my hips back, the head of my cock sliding over her clit and going low until I’m nudging at her entrance.
“Just this first time, then.”
“Just this time,” I agree. I lean down to kiss her, shifting until my fingers curl around her nape so I can feel her pulse against my palm. She mirrors the movment, her breath leaving her on an unsteady exhale, the same way mine does.
“Okay?” I ask.
She nods, and our gazes stay locked as I ease inside, inch by inch.
Lavender’s eyes flare, her lips forming the words oh God as my hips meet hers. Her nails dig into the back of my neck, and her knees press into my sides.
I’m unprepared for the way it feels to be connected to her so completely. My entire body hums with foreign energy, lighting up from the inside like a neon sign. She’s so warm and tight and wet and soft.
“Are you okay?” I grind out.
“Yes. Are you?” Her finger travels in a figure eight along the top of my spine.
I have to close my eyes for a second to block out her guileless eyes and get a handle on the emotions and sensations. Sex with Lavender isn’t just physical; it’s every part of me and every part of her fusing into one.
We’ve always been connected in ways that defy reason, and now, in this, it’s like a circuit completing. Emotions pass between us, thick with desire, electric and dangerously addicting.
“Kodiak?” Her thumb strokes along the edge of my jaw, and I open my eyes.
“I’m here.”
“I know. I can feel you.” She pulls my mouth down to hers. Every point of connection is another place we’re plugged into each other. I hover in some odd state of anxious calm. The urge to shift my hips is hard to deny, but I wait until Lavender tells me she’s ready for more.
“Show me your truth,” she whispers.
I start to move, long strokes and a slow climb. Lavender tilts her hips, eyes locked on my face. Logic slips away, and primal desire takes hold. The need to claim and be claimed overwhelms as I move faster, go deeper, and try to get closer.
Lavender whispers words of encouragement against my lips, more and yes and oh, right there. I slide a hand under her and fold back on my knees, taking her with me so she’s sitting in my lap and we’re chest to chest, skin slick with sweat, breath coming in quick, hard pants.
“Do you think you can come?” I ask.
She grips my shoulders. “Maybe? I don’t know.”
“Help me get you there,” I beg.
She palms the back of my neck with one hand and drops the other between her thighs. Her fingertips graze the base of my cock where we’re joined. I groan, and we both look down as she makes tight circles over her swollen clit. I stay deep, rocking her over me.
A quiet moan bubbles up, and she contracts around me. As soon as her eyes flutter open, I grip her hips and move her, lifting and lowering, hard and fast, slamming her down on my cock as my own orgasm rockets through me—a violent power surge that turns the world black before my vision returns in a vivid, colorful burst.
We stay wrapped around each other for long minutes, foreheads pressed against each other’s necks as our hearts slow to calm. I feel equal parts sated and ravenous.
Eventually I turn my head and kiss my way back to her lips. I don’t want to break the connection, but we can’t stay like this forever.
I reach over to her nightstand and grab a handful of tissues, lifting her off me so I can clean her up. I drop a quick kiss on her lips and disappear into the bathroom to take care of myself and bring a warm washcloth out for her.
When I return, she pulls back the covers and I stretch out beside her. She runs her fingers through my hair, her expression pensive. “I understand now.” Her voice is raspy and low.
“Understand what?” I can’t stop touching her, my fingers trailing up and down the length of her spine, her soft, wavy hair tickling the back of my hand.
“Why you lied.”
“I wasn’t in control,” I admit.
“Neither of us was,” she replies. “They were right to keep us apart, weren’t they?”
I want to disagree, but I can’t. “This.” I skim the contour of her face with a single fingertip. “The way it feels to be with you, I wouldn’t have known how to deal with it back then. I needed you to need me. It was addicting, and I don’t think I would’ve been able to find any sort of balance when we were younger.” I kiss her forehead. “I overheard my parents talking one night, not long after they sat us down and told us we needed time apart. My mom said something about our relationship being toxic. She was worried about what it would look like when we were teenagers. I didn’t get it then, but when I saw you again at that holiday party, it finally made sense.”
Her palm rests on my chest, and I pick it up as I fall back in time, searching for the words to explain. “All the space, all the separation, all the time meant nothing. All it did was make the longing worse. And then there you were, looking so beautiful and resilient and whole. That’s when I knew why they’d done what they did, because even then, I wanted you in a way that wasn’t reasonable, and I knew if I acted on that, I’d only do more damage to us. There was too much distance. I could see the way things would fall apart. The way I would’ve shredded us.”
“And now?”
“Now you’re strong enough to hold yourself together, and I’ve realized that’s even better. I’m strong enough not to tear you apart by loving you.”
Chapter Thirty
The Things We Know
Lavender
Present day
I’VE HAD AN embarrassing number of safe-sex conversations since Kodiak and I started officially dating. The worst is when my dad, of all people, asks me if I need him to contact his previous endorsement sponsors about prophylactics.
The best was when Kodiak answered a call from his mom literally two minutes after we’d finished having sex, and she went into a ten-minute lecture on safe sex and how it only takes one time without a condom to get pregnant.
Kodiak assures her we’re being responsible, while I bury my face in my pillow and try not to laugh. But we are being responsible. I’m on the pill, and about 70 percent of the time we use condoms. The other 30 percent we start without one and put one on halfway through so he’ll last longer and it’s less messy.