"Fuck," I breathe, watching where our bodies join."You're incredible."
She smiles, that rare, unguarded smile that transforms her face, and picks up the pace.Her hands move to my shoulders for leverage, nails digging in just enough to send sparks down my spine.
I slide one hand between us, finding the spot where she needs me most, and her rhythm falters.Her head drops back, exposing the elegant line of her throat, and I can't resist leaning forward to taste her skin.She tastes like salt and a flavor that’s uniquely her.When I find the sensitive spot at the base of her neck, she gasps my name.
"Gage," she moans, and the sound goes straight through me.Her movements become more urgent, more desperate, and I match her rhythm with my fingers, circling and pressing until she's trembling against me.
"That's it," I murmur against her collarbone."Let go for me."
She shakes her head, stubborn even now."Not without you."
I love how she fights for control, even when she's falling apart.I shift my hips, angling deeper, and her breath catches.Her eyes flutter shut, but she forces them open again, holding my gaze as she moves.
"Together," she whispers.
The word undoes me completely.I surge up to meet her, my hands gripping her hips as I drive deeper.Her mouth falls open on a silent cry, and I feel her tighten around me, her whole body going taut.
"Now," I growl, my thumb pressing harder against her clit."Come for me now."
She breaks with a sharp cry, her body convulsing around me as waves of pleasure crash over her.The sight of her falling apart, the way she says my name like a prayer, sends me over the edge with her.I bury my face in her neck, holding her tight as I empty myself inside her.
For a long moment, we stay like that, breathing hard, hearts pounding against each other.She's limp in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder, and I stroke her hair gently as we both come down.
"Jesus," she whispers."I think you broke me."
I laugh softly, my hands still moving in lazy patterns across her back."Pretty sure you broke me first."
She hums, a satisfied sound that vibrates through both our bodies.We stay connected, neither of us willing to move yet, our breathing gradually syncing up in the quiet of my living room.
Her head rests on my shoulder, and I run my fingers through her hair, breathing her in.
And I know, without a doubt, that this?This is exactly where we're meant to be.
Chapter 35
Skye
ThesecondIstepthrough the main doors of campus, I know they know.
Every whisper feels like it's aimed at me.Every lingering glance, every sudden hush as I pass, it all confirms what I already suspected.Word got out, and it has spread like wildfire.Most of these students had no idea who I was last week.Now everyone does.
They're not subtle about it either.
A group of girls by the bulletin board freeze mid-conversation as I walk by.One of them elbows the other and tilts her chin in my direction.I pretend I don't see it, and that my spine isn't stiff with tension, or that my fingers aren't clutched so tightly around the strap of my bag they're turning white.
It's not just the students.Faculty glance at me differently, too.Some with thinly veiled judgment.Others with pity.A few of the male professors don't even hide the fact that they are checking me out.It makes my skin crawl.But no one says a word, and no one stops me.It's like I've become some kind of myth walking through the halls.
In class, it's worse.
The usual cliques that filled the front and middle rows have migrated backward, leaving an absurd amount of space between me and the rest of the room.It's comical, really, like something you'd see in a movie.Do they think I'm radioactive?There's a new professor at the front, older and stiff, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.He clears his throat and dives into the syllabus with all the enthusiasm of a DMV worker.Every so often, he glares at me like it's my fault he's there.And truthfully, it is my fault.
But me?I'm smiling.
Because on my right hand, catching the light every time I shift in my seat, is a ring.It's not a diamond engagement ring or anything flashy.Gage gave it to me as I was walking out the door for class this morning, saying he wanted something of his on me.
The weight of it is grounding.And calming.A reminder of everything we've been through and what we're building.
They can stare all they want.They can whisper and wonder and speculate.But they don't know half of it.They don't know what it took to get here.And they definitely don't know what it feels like to be wanted, really wanted, by someone like Gage.