I palmed the wall even harder.

One hand slipped lower, his finger gliding through my slit, his touch evoking another tremor and a set of goose bumps down my spine as he stroked my sensitive flesh in a seductive slide that had me grinding my body over his, already chasing the beginning of my second orgasm of the night.

His fingers pulled away, the head of his cock replacing his hand, brushing against my clit, rubbing back and forth, the friction so good that I couldn’t resist the urge to push back onto him, rubbing myself over him, my body already turning greedy again as I gave in to the slippery slide of heat between my legs. He held me in place, one of his hands coming to rest at the small of my back, just over my ass, and then the head of his cock nudged my entrance, teasing my swollen flesh, a hiss escaping my lips as I braced myself against the wall, my hand curling into a fist.

He moved slowly, sinking into me inch by inch as I stretched to accommodate him—so fucking big—a thin line of sweat forming along my body. He groaned, his hand coming up to join mine, our fingers linking, and then he pushed all the way inside in one smooth thrust, bringing me up to my toes, his other arm coming around my waist, holding me against his body as he filled me completely.

I’d forgotten how big he was, forgotten that sex between us had always been so much more, that it wasn’t just his cock inside of me as much as the feeling that we’d bared everything before each other, shared the crevices of ourselves that we hid away from the rest of the world. It felt right. Like the time apart had never existed, like no matter what came our way, or who we grew to be, we’d always find our way back to each other.

For a moment we just stayed like that, his body seated to the hilt in mine, our sweat mingling, his heart beating against my back, the steady thumps music to my ears. I squeezed his fingers, holding on tight, an unspoken conversation passing between our bodies, and then he began moving, his powerful hips rocking as he thrust in and out, angling his body until he found the right spot, giving it to me harder, deeper, my toes curling into the worn carpet.

His hand slipped down from my waist to finger me once more, and between his strokes and the way he hit my g-spot, I felt the orgasm building within me once again. I fought it back, wanting to come with him, wanting to impale myself on his cock when I came.

Matt fucked me slow and hard, and then his pace quickened, his breaths growing harsher, his fingers squeezing mine, adding a thin thread of pain to all that pleasure, so I danced on a knife’s edge. And then he was coming, his body shuddering and quaking against mine, his cock throbbing inside me, and I let myself go for the second time, my body clenching down over his as I gave him everything I had—my heart, my body, my present, my past, my future.

Chapter Eleven

Rumors continue to swirl regarding a potential presidential bid for Senator Edward Reynolds …

—Capital Confessions blog

Matt

I lay on my back in Kate’s bed, staring up at the ceiling, her arm draped around my waist, pressed into my side, her hand lazily stroking my skin. All of the tension from the past few weeks had drained out of me, an unfamiliar sense of peace taking its place instead.

Kate stroked down my abs, her movements lazy, each one waking my tired body up.

“I need five minutes of recovery time,” I murmured, the remnants of my last orgasm hollowing me out.

Kate shifted, tilting her head up to face me, her brown eyes searching. Some of the edge to her seemed to have mellowed, a sleepy, hazy sort of contentment filtering into her gaze.

“So you’re planning on this happening again?”

And there was that flash of challenge, the part of her that was lovably tenacious.

I grinned. “I think you’re planning on this happening again, and I think we both know that I want you too much to resist. Especially after tonight.”

“It was pretty amazing, wasn’t it?”

A lump formed in my throat. It was always like that with us, so much more than good sex.

“Yeah, it was.”

She was quiet for a beat. “Are you going to stay here? I mean, at my place?”

I hadn’t really thought about it. I’d dumped my stuff when I’d rented a shitty room in an even shittier hotel in a dodgy part of the city—appealing to the kind of management who rented rooms by the hour and didn’t bat an eye at someone paying cash without ID.

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then I will.”

I tightened my grasp around her, feeling like I was exactly where I belonged for the first time in nearly four years.

Kate

I woke to Matt thrashing in bed, his arms and legs jerking as he rolled over onto his side.

“No!” he shouted, his hands forming fists as he twisted and bucked, pummeling the bed.

Oh my god.

This one was so much worse than the nightmare I’d seen him having on the couch. He looked like he was fighting for his life, his entire body tense, braced for hell.

I slipped out of the bed, his arm connecting with my hip. I uttered an oath as a sharp pain hit me.

Fuck.

“Matt.” I reached out, my hand grazing his chest as he shouted and moaned. I tried to shake him, not sure if waking him like this was better or worse. “Matt, it’s just a dream. It’s Kate. You’re here in my apartment. You’re safe. You need to wake up.”

He moaned again, a faint sheen of sweat covering his skin, his body rocking.

My heart hammering, I got back on the bed, kneeling over him, trying to stay outside of the line of fire but close enough to put my hands on him, struggling to jar him awake.

“It’s Kate,” I repeated. “You’re safe. I need you to wake up. Everything’s okay.” I didn’t know if I was even getting through to him, but I had to try. “It’s just a bad dream.” I shook him gently, my hands on his pec, his heart pounding in a mad beat against my fingers.

He jolted upright, his eyes wide, his chest heaving. Our gazes connected. My fingers curled over his heart as though I could hold it close and protect him from the memories that haunted him.

“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling back a bit, his fingers trembling. “How long was that one?”

“I don’t know. I just woke up a minute or two ago. You were jerking around and I thought I should try to wake you up. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

His jaw clenched, his mouth tight, his gaze running over me. “Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head.

“I know how bad these dreams are. Did I hurt you? Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m fine. You caught my hip, but it wasn’t bad. I got out of the way before anything could happen. I’m fine.”

“Fuck.”

Matt lurched out of bed, his feet hitting the floor, his body crumpled over at the waist as he leaned against his knees, his hands pressed against his forehead.

I knew he wanted to push me away, that this had somehow confirmed his fears that he was bad for me, that he was fucked up, et cetera, et cetera.

I wasn’t having any of it.

If he had nightmares, then I would be here with him in the middle of the night to make them go away. He needed help, needed someone to talk to, needed counseling, and if he thought I didn’t have it in me to stand by him while he went through this, then he didn’t know me at all.

I wasn’t scared of him. I wasn’t going to fall apart or shy away from the fact that the man who had come back to me had some broken pieces inside of him. Who didn’t? I was going to be everything he needed me to be, and if he couldn’t be strong right now, then I would be his strength.

“Do you want a glass of water?”

Matt jerked his head in a nod, his breath hitching as he dragged in air.

I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a glass, taking the moment to get my head together, to figure out how I was going to convince him that he needed to get help for his PTSD, especially when he couldn’t exactly go through official channels for veterans’ counseling.