A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 91: CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

ASHLEY

Every ounce of defiance I had melted under the intensity of his touch. I felt him press closer, his body heat searing through the thin fabric of my dress. The kiss deepened, his hand sliding to my wrist again in a vise-like grip, pulling me along with him.

Before I could process anything else, he yanked me toward a door across the hall, the unmarked door barely visible in the dim lighting. My feet barely kept up as he dragged me forward, and to my surprise, the door was unlocked. He didn’t hesitate.

With a single motion, Kyle pushed me inside.

The room was dim, lit only by the soft amber glow bleeding through the cracks of the door behind us. Shadows draped across the furniture like silent witnesses. My heart pounded against my ribs like it was trying to claw its way out.

Yeah... I guess our sex-with-no-strings deal just officially kicked off.

Kyle closed the space between us with the ease. His breath skimmed over my cheek, warm and intoxicating, stealing what was left of my composure. And before I could summon a single protest, his mouth found mine again—this time slower, more intentional, like he was savoring the unraveling.

Every kiss was a calculated sin.

His tongue slid past my lips, teasing and coaxing, while one hand moved to the small of my back, pressing me flush against him. My body betrayed me, responding to every touch like it had been starved of him, like it remembered what my mind kept trying to forget.

I let out a small gasp when he turned me, my back hitting the wall with a muted thud. His lips trailed down my neck, hot and demanding, making my knees weaken. He tugged one of my legs around his waist, and I followed without thinking, clutching his shoulders as if he was the only solid thing left in a spinning world.

“You drive me insane,” he murmured against my skin, the sound of his voice low and raw, rough with restraint. “You know that?”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Because I was already too far gone. Already drowning in him—his scent, his heat, the familiar weight of him pressing into me like a drug I thought I’d quit but clearly hadn’t.

This wasn’t love.

This wasn’t healing.

This was combustion.

And I was burning.

The encounter with Liam already faded nto the nether where they belonged.

This was exactly what I needed.

Kyle's mouth returned to mine, fiercer now and I moaned into the kiss as his fingers slid beneath the hem of my dress, dragging it up my thighs with agonizing slowness and in a swift motion,he ripped my underwear off. My skin prickled under his touch, each movement fanning the fire already roaring beneath my surface.

““You were going to ignore my message,” he muttered, his breath hot against my collarbone, voice thick with accusation. “Pretend like you weren’t aching for this too.”

I clenched my jaw. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He chuckled—low, dark, knowing. The vibration of it rumbled through my skin like a warning. “You’re not denying it.”

I hated how easily he read me. Hated how his hands still knew the contours of my body better than I knew the shape of my own feelings. And gods help me—I hated how much I wanted him. Still.

His fingers slipped between my thighs, confident and unrelenting, stroking from my entrance up to my clit in a slow, devastating sweep.

My back arched as a gasp tore from my lips. Pleasure burned low in my belly, spreading like wildfire.

“Fuck,” I exhaled.

His mouth trailed down my neck, each kiss more deliberate than the last, his tongue leaving streaks of heat in its wake as his fingers teased and circled with maddening precision.

“Gods, you feel like silk,” he rasped against my throat. “Hot, slick silk.”

His voice had that gravelly edge I’d nearly forgotten—nearly. But now it wrapped around me like smoke, thick and heady, anchoring me in this moment with him.

Then his mouth found my breast, lips closing over my nipple as his teeth scraped just enough to send a spike of sensation bolting down to my core. A broken moan escaped me.

“Kyle,” I breathed, nails digging into the tops of his shoulders. Each flick of his tongue, each glide of his fingers, unraveled me a little more, every nerve sparking to life under his touch.

“I know exactly what you want,” he murmured, brushing my clit with a teasing touch that had me biting my lip. “And what you need.”

Two fingers slipped inside me, thick and smooth, filling me in a way that made my breath catch and my hips roll instinctively.

Yes. Deeper. Closer. More.

“Then give it to me,” I demanded, my voice hoarse with need.

And he did.

His strokes quickened, his thumb circling in tandem, building that delicious tension inside me—tight, unbearable, perfect. My breaths came in short, ragged pants, my body trembling as he worked me higher and higher.

“Gods, look at you,” he whispered, watching me through hooded eyes, full of reverence and hunger. “You are all I’m ever going to want. Just you. Just this. Just us.”

His words cracked something open in me. The ache, the need, the years of pretending none of it mattered—gone.

“I need you,” I whispered. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t even want. It was something rawer, more desperate. Something real.

“Same,” he growled.

Clothes became a barrier we tore away in a frenzy of mouths and hands—kisses that bruised, touches that soothed. Heat flared between us like a storm reignited, wild and uncontained, consuming every breath, every thought, every inch of control I pretended to have.

My fingers found him—hot, hard, and heavy—and I guided him to my entrance, slick and pulsing with need. I couldn’t wait. I wouldn’t. One more second without him inside me, and I might shatter into dust.

“I need you more, Freckles,” he growled, voice thick with desire as he cupped my jaw with one hand, steadying me. His hips rolled forward slowly, the head of his cock pushing past the resistance, sinking in with a delicious stretch that had my knees buckling.

I whimpered as he filled me—inch by aching inch—until I was too full to think, too overwhelmed to breathe.

“However much you think you need this—need me—” he murmured against my mouth, “I need you more.”

Then he thrust, deep and purposeful, bottoming out inside me with a moan that sounded ripped straight from his soul.