Chapter 11: Morning After

"Giles," I said.

He moved.

He drew back almost all the way out, and pushed in again, and I felt it in my spine.

"Again."

"Giles."

"Louder."

"Giles, please."

He set a rhythm, deep and steady, with one hand under my knee and the other braced beside my head.

Every time he thrust, he hit a place that made me see white.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and dug my heels into the small of his back.

"Harder," I said.

"Hallie."

"Harder. I won't break."

He made a sound I'd never heard from a man, half laugh and half groan, and gave me exactly what I'd asked for.

The bed shook.

The headboard knocked the wall.

I stopped thinking about my sister and my father and the roof, and thought of nothing but the weight of him and the heat sliding through my belly.

He slid a hand between us and rubbed my clit in slow circles, matching each thrust.

"Come for me," he said against my ear.

"I'm close."

"I know. I can feel it. Let go."

I did.

It broke over me in a long, hard wave, and I clenched around his cock and screamed his name into his shoulder.

He followed a moment later, with a shudder and a low curse, buried deep, his face in my hair.

We lay tangled in the sheets for a long time.

His heart slowed against my chest.

I traced the line of his spine with one finger.

"Rule one," he murmured. "Broken."

"I'd say so."

"I'll want it on record."

"Don't push it."

He laughed, and kissed my temple, and for the first time since the roof I slept all the way through the night.

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