Off the Sidelines (QuirkyQuill and MrPositive)

[MrPositive]

Adrian felt it the moment she shattered beneath him.

The way her body clenched around him, gripping and pulsing in frantic, desperate waves, nearly undid him on the spot. The sound of her cries—his name breaking from her lips, raw and unrestrained—sent a deep, primal satisfaction roaring through his veins. He had done this to her. He had driven her to the brink and sent her spiraling over, had wrung pleasure from her body until she had no choice but to surrender to it.

Mine.

The word crashed through his mind with unrelenting force, and he barely held himself together as he fought to prolong the inevitable. He wanted to savor every last second of the way she felt, hot and wet and gripping him like she never wanted to let go. He gritted his teeth, his breath ragged, his muscles taut as he drove into her, pushing deeper, claiming every last bit of her as his own.

"Fuck, Cass," he groaned, his voice rough, nearly breaking as her body milked him.

Her legs tightened around his waist, locking him in place, pulling him in, keeping him buried inside her. The last tremors of her orgasm still pulsed around him, her body still writhing beneath his, still floating in that perfect haze of pleasure. She was completely undone, her limbs limp, her skin slick with sweat, and yet she was still urging him on, her body still calling for him.

And he couldn't hold back any longer. His control snapped like a frayed rope, unraveling in an instant.

His rhythm faltered, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, more desperate. The slick heat of her surrounded him, squeezing, pulling, coaxing him closer to the edge. His breath came in ragged gasps, his fingers digging into her hips, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The pressure inside him built to an unbearable peak, pleasure coiling at the base of his spine, threatening to consume him whole. He buried himself to the hilt, his body tensing, a low, guttural groan tearing from his throat as he finally gave in.

Pleasure slammed through him in powerful, consuming bursts, white-hot and unrelenting. His vision blurred, his mind emptying of everything except the overwhelming sensation of release, the raw, blissful satisfaction. His body jerked with each pulse, his breath shuddering, his grip on her tightening as he spilled himself inside her.

His forehead dropped to her shoulder, his breath uneven, his heart hammering against his ribs. The aftershocks rippled through him, his body still trembling, still lost in the lingering echoes of pleasure. He could feel her beneath him, her own chest rising and falling in the same erratic rhythm, her skin still flushed, still damp with sweat.

The world around them had disappeared. Nothing existed outside this bed, outside the space between them. His fingers flexed against her hips, his body still pressed to hers, unwilling to move, unwilling to break the connection. He didn't want to leave the warmth of her body, the safety of this moment. Because for the first time in a long time, he felt whole.

For so long, there had been a part of him that felt untethered, like he was constantly searching for something he couldn't name. His marriage had left him bruised in ways he hadn't realized, had stripped him of things he hadn't even known he'd lost. But with Cassie, that restless, empty feeling faded.

With her, he wasn't adrift. With her, he was grounded.

A deep breath rattled from his chest, and he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her shoulder. He could still feel the rapid beat of her heart against him, the warmth of her skin beneath his lips. Slowly, he shifted, easing his weight off of her just enough to let her breathe while keeping their bodies tangled together.

He didn't want distance. Not yet. He let his hand drift over the curve of her hip, his touch slow, absentminded. The reality of what had just happened, of what it meant, settled over him like a heavy but welcome weight. And somewhere deep inside, he knew there was no going back. Cassie wasn't just another woman in his bed. She was his. And he had no intention of letting her go.​

 

[QuirkyQuill]

His words settled into her stomach, the unadulterated rawness of his need becoming evident in the way he pounded into her. She clung to him, her body relishing the way he took her so possessively. He pushed another cry from her lips as his body drove further into her, and she found herself so completely lost in him. Burying her face in his shoulder, her lips rubbed against his damp skin before she planted a kiss against the curve of his shoulder.

Laying her head back, she opened her eyes and watched his face. The way his features changed thrilled her. It was surreal to her that being with her could evoke this reaction from him. When his orgasm hit, she felt every shudder against her sensitive body. A small smile spread on her face as he came back down, the sounds of their breathing shuttering anything else from her ears.

Her fingers danced across him as he rested on her, soaking in the moment of vulnerability and oneness. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled his head down to her chest and wound her fingers through his hair. Cassie was content to stay in this position the remainder of the night.

“I love you so much,” she whispered into the top of his hair before kissing the top of his head. Closing her eyes, her left hand drifted down his back, her fingers following the curve of his shoulder blade. It made her heart swell to experience these moments with him. She was made to have these moments with him. A small, satiated sigh escaped her as she laid her hand flat against his back.

Sleep was beginning to tug at her. The emotional rollercoaster she’d been on for the last twenty-four hours hit her like a ton of bricks. Protected beneath Adrian’s spent body, she felt her thoughts blur before drifting to sleep, the vision of him making love to her so vivid, it drowned out the storm in which she’d resided since the previous night.

 

[MrPositive]

Adrian stayed exactly where he was, the weight of his body draped over hers, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. Her warmth, the softness of her skin beneath him, the scent of her tangled hair and the rise and fall of her chest—these things rooted him, steadied him. He had just come harder than he could remember, and still, he felt like he hadn't fallen nearly as far as he could into her.

He didn't want to move. Didn't need to. The lingering tremors in his limbs weren't from exertion alone—they were born from something deeper, something almost holy in its intensity. Cassie had met him with trust, with tenderness, with a kind of vulnerable hunger that had stripped him bare and rebuilt him in her image. She had taken every thrust, every whispered claim, every selfish groan of need—and she had answered him with surrender.

Willing. Giving. Wanting.

He felt her hand sliding through his hair, slow and soothing, and then her arms wrapped around him, guiding him to her chest like she knew he needed the anchor. And maybe he did. Maybe he needed to rest against her heart to remind himself he was still a man, not some raw nerve thrumming with unspoken need. She held him like she knew every broken part of him—and didn't care. Like she'd chosen him anyway.

His cheek rested over her breast, the thump of her heart grounding him. He could feel her fingers moving gently down his back, over his shoulder blade, tender and slow, tracing a path that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with love. That was the word catching like gravel in his throat, the thing he didn't say because he didn't trust it to come out right.

But he felt it. God, did he feel it. Adrian exhaled, the sound rough in the quiet room. His body was heavy from release, but his mind was still humming, alive with everything she'd just given him. Everything she was giving him. He closed his eyes, trying to memorize this moment—not just the way her body felt under his, but the stillness, the peace that came from knowing she was his.

Not just tonight. Not just now. All of her.

He turned his head slightly, nuzzling into her skin, catching the faint scent of sweat and sweetness. Her hair was a mess around her, the sheets tangled beneath them, their skin still clinging where they touched. But he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered, voice low and thick with honesty. "I need you to know that, Cass."

He didn't even know if she was still awake to hear him. But it didn't matter. The words needed to be said—for her, and for him. He shifted slightly, just enough to curl his arm beneath her and pull her closer against his chest. He felt her sigh, soft and content, and even though she didn't speak, the way her body molded to his told him everything he needed to know. Adrian pressed a slow, reverent kiss to the top of her breast, just beneath the curve of her collarbone. Not driven by lust or urgency this time—just reverence. Gratitude. Love.

Yeah. Love. That word again. It burned in his chest, warm and terrifying and real. He wasn't sure when it had happened. When the casual conversations turned into moments he clung to, or when her laughter became the soundtrack of his peace. But now? Now it was undeniable.

He loved her. He had fought the idea for so long. Fought trusting someone again. Fought believing he could. But Cassie had slipped beneath his armor without even trying. She hadn't demanded his secrets—she'd waited until he gave them. She hadn't tried to fix him—just made space for him to exist, broken pieces and all. And now, after giving himself to her in the most complete way he could imagine, Adrian understood something with unshakable certainty:

He didn't want to go back to a life without her in it. As the minutes passed and her breathing began to slow, growing heavier, more rhythmic, Adrian felt her body begin to go slack beneath his. She was falling asleep—peaceful, safe, his. He stayed with her like that, resting his weight just enough not to crush her, but refusing to let go. His eyes stayed open, tracing the curve of her face, the swell of her cheek, the subtle twitch of her fingers as they began to go still against his skin. He brushed his lips over her temple, then settled back in, his own body finally starting to surrender to the pull of sleep.

"I love you, too," he murmured against her skin, so quiet it was almost inaudible. "So damn much."

Maybe she didn't hear him. Maybe she did. But one way or another, Adrian Stafford knew this wasn't the last time he'd say it. Not by a long shot. Because for the first time in his life, he wasn't chasing a future that didn't exist. He was already in it. And she was everything.​