Chapter 180: Finish Line
Harry thrust into her without hesitation, unapologetic and all-consuming.
Eve cried out, her voice echoing through the room as her nails raked across his back and arm, clinging to him like her life depended on it.
"Ahh... Harry..." she gasped, her head falling back, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation overtook her.
He wasn’t unaffected either—Harry groaned, deep and guttural, as he felt her slick, aching walls welcome him in with ease.
"Fuck..." he hissed through clenched teeth. "You’re drenched... so fucking tight and wet. God, I fucking love it..."
Eve didn’t even hear his words—she was too far gone, lost in the rhythm of his slow, deliberate movements, each thrust stoking the fire he’d ignited in her.
Their bodies moved in a sensual memory of the past, passion reborn in the present. It wasn’t just sex—it was a reckoning.
Every suppressed emotion, every silent longing, every aching regret they had buried for years now unraveled between them. It was as if Pandora’s box had burst open, unleashing everything they had tried to forget.
And they welcomed it—every flame, every ghost, every whisper of what once was... now reignited into something far more dangerous, far more consuming.
As much as Harry tried to maintain a slow, measured rhythm—to let her body reacquaint itself with the stretch of him, with the sheer size that once claimed her—his restraint began to slip.
The sensation of her warmth gripping him, the way her moans danced in his ears, made it impossible to stay gentle for long.