Andy's POV
We got home, and everything felt different—but in the best way. There was no heaviness anymore. Just us. We curled up on the couch, her legs draped over mine, a soft blanket across our laps. The movie playing on the screen was background noise. My attention was completely on her—every breath she took, every time she leaned her head on my shoulder. I held her like she was my peace. Because she was.
After a while, she got up without a word and went upstairs.
I stayed there, sipping from my glass, letting the quiet wrap around me.
When she came back down…
My breath caught.
She was wearing this silk robe, loosely tied, but it didn't hide anything. It framed her body like it was made to tease me. One shoulder bare. The swell of her breasts peeking out. Her skin glowing in the low light. And her eyes—God, those eyes—locked onto mine like a silent challenge.
I knew exactly what time it was.
She stopped in front of me and smiled, biting her bottom lip. "Like what you see?"
I stood slowly, letting my eyes drink her in. "You know what you're doing to me right now."
She moved closer, standing just inches away, her fingers running up my chest. "Then do something about it."
That was all I needed.
I crashed my lips against hers, pulling her body tight against mine. The kiss was hot, desperate, weeks of distance and need pouring out of both of us. She moaned into my mouth as my hands slid down her back, gripping her thighs, lifting her slightly so she could wrap her legs around my waist.
I carried her upstairs without breaking the kiss, our lips, tongues, breaths tangled like we were trying to devour each other.
In the bedroom, I laid her down gently on the bed. The robe slipped open, revealing everything—and she was perfect. She always had been.
"You're mine," I whispered, kissing down her neck, slow and deep, leaving trails of fire along her skin.
"I've always been yours," she breathed, arching up into me.
Our bodies moved in sync—clothes lost between kisses, gasps echoing through the room. Her fingers tangled in my hair, my hands exploring every inch of her. When I entered her, it wasn't just physical—it was everything. All the words we didn't say. All the fear. All the love.
The rhythm started slow, deep, as we looked into each other's eyes—both of us trembling, not just from lust, but from how safe we finally felt again. Then it built, faster, harder, her legs gripping my waist tighter, her moans rising with each thrust, each kiss, each whispered promise.
Kimberly POV
He didn't even wait for me to catch my breath.
One orgasm in, body shaking, thighs slick and trembling—and Andy was already strapping up again, eyes locked on me like a man on a mission.
Thick. Black. Heavy. Just the way I liked it.
He stood at the foot of the bed, chest rising and falling, muscles tight, sweat glistening off his skin. The harness clung to his hips like armor. Dominant. Powerful. So damn hot I couldn't stop moaning just from the sight of him stroking it—teasing me.
"You think I'm done with you?" he said, voice low, dangerous. "You're not walking after this."
My breath caught.
I spread my legs wider, aching for him. "Then make me crawl, baby."
He growled—an animal sound that made my whole body clench.
He crawled onto the bed, grabbed my ankles, and yanked me down to the edge. The tip of the strap slid between my folds, soaking wet and twitching with need. He rubbed it slow over my clit, watching me squirm.
"Say it," he demanded.
"Please… fuck me."
"Louder."
"FUCK me, Andy—please—"
He slammed into me.
I screamed—head thrown back, nails clawing at the sheets, the stretch so delicious it made my eyes roll back. He set a brutal pace, hips snapping, balls from the strap smacking my ass with every thrust. Deep. Hard. Filthy.
My body shook. I was drenched. And he knew it.
"You're dripping all over me," he snarled, slapping my thigh. "You love when I use this cock on you, huh?"
"Yes! God, yes!"
He pulled out and flipped me over in one rough motion—face down, ass up. My cheek hit the pillows as he rammed back inside me, both hands on my hips, dragging me back onto him.
He was fucking ruthless.
The bed slammed into the wall. My moans turned into screams, and all I could do was take it—beg for it—while his fingers dug into my skin and his breath burned hot against my back.
"Touch yourself," he growled.
I reached under, rubbing my clit in fast, desperate circles as he pounded me from behind. My legs trembled, knees weak, and when I came again, I screamed into the pillow, body convulsing, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes.
And he still didn't stop.
He grabbed my hair, pulled me up to my knees, and fucked me while whispering dirty promises in my ear.
"I'm gonna fuck you until you forget your name."
"You're mine. Say it."
"I'm yours, Andy—I'm yours—fuck—"
One hand on my throat, the other playing with my nipples while he fucked me slow and deep now, letting me feel every inch of that strap. My pussy throbbed. My body begged.
And when he finally stopped, I collapsed in a trembling, soaked, breathless mess.
Andy leaned over me, kissed my shoulder, and whispered, "You took it so good, baby."
My voice was gone. My body was ruined.
But I smiled. Because I'd do it all over again.
Kimberly's POV
That night wrecked me—in the best way. My body ached in places I forgot could ache, but I slept like a baby curled into Andy's arms. Safe. Loved. Full.
I hadn't slept like that in months.
Not since he left for the U.S. Not since the ache of missing him became my normal.
But now? His scent on the sheets, the weight of his arm across my waist, the quiet sound of his breathing next to mine... it was more than enough. It was everything.
When I opened my eyes, he was already up—watching me like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.
"Good morning, baby," he murmured, brushing my hair back. "Get dressed. We're going out."
He took me to the community market, fingers laced through mine the whole time like he was afraid to let go. People stared, but we didn't care. We walked past food stalls and small shops, played cheesy carnival games, laughed like teenagers. He told me to buy anything I wanted.
"I want nothing but you," I told him.
He still handed me flowers.
We ate grilled meat off sticks, drank sugary drinks from paper cups, and took pictures under the sun like a normal couple. No secrets. No heavy past. Just us—two people in love, being ridiculous and happy in the open.
He even tried to win me a stuffed bear at a ring toss.
He failed. Twice.
I won it on the first try. He sulked for five minutes, then kissed me in the middle of the walkway just to shut me up.
And I kissed him back.
Hard.
The kind of kiss that made people glance away and smile. The kind that said, We're here. We're back. And we're not letting go.
By the end of the day, we were sun-kissed, sugar-filled, and wrapped around each other like we had never been apart. And as we walked home, his arm over my shoulder and my head on his chest, I realized something:
It didn't have to be wild all the time. Sometimes, just being seen by the person you love was the hottest, deepest kind of intimacy there was.
The bass pulsed through my veins as Andy spun me into him on the dance floor, our bodies moving like we were one. I couldn't stop laughing—he was trying to dance smooth, all suave and dominant, but the minute his foot slipped on some spilled liquor, he almost took both of us down.
We laughed so hard people stared, but neither of us cared. It felt good to just feel again.
After a few more rounds, we found a booth in the corner, dim lights casting shadows over his jawline. God, he looked good—sweaty, happy, alive. The kind of look that made me want to kiss him until the club closed and then take him home and ruin him.
He leaned in, still catching his breath, and started telling me about the U.S.
"Yh," he said, smirking. "So I'm standing there, right? And this guy looks me dead in the eye and goes, 'This is my town.' And I swear, baby, I felt like I was in a bad movie."
I raised a brow. "So what did you do?"
"I smiled… real slow… and walked the hell away."
I laughed. "You didn't wanna ruin your beautiful skin, huh?"
Andy leaned closer, his breath warm on my lips. "No, baby. I'm not ready to die over someone else's ego."
Right then, his phone buzzed on the table.
He glanced at the screen, and just like that, his playful expression dropped. "Sorry, babe," he said softly. "I gotta take this."
His voice was calm, but I saw it in his eyes—tension, like he was snapping back to reality for just a moment. Like whoever was on the other end of that call wasn't just someone.
I watched him stand, step out into the cool night air through the side door, phone pressed to his ear.
And for a moment, I sat there… staring at his half-empty drink, my fingers tracing the rim of my glass.
I trusted him. I did.
But that phone call?
It felt like something that could shift everything.
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Kimberly's POV
I tried to keep calm.
I really did.
But my chest was tightening by the second, the music suddenly too loud, the lights too bright. That guy's eyes were all over me, his tone smooth but slimy, like every word he said was laced with possession.
"Hey beautiful, you look very stunning," he said.
I barely looked at him. "I know, thanks." I waved it off, hoping he'd get the hint.
"Can I get you a drink?"
"Er... no, I'm okay."
"Come on, I don't bite," he said, sliding into the seat beside me like he belonged there.
I tensed. The booth suddenly felt smaller. My skin prickled.
I stood up to leave, heart racing.
But his hand clamped around my wrist.
"Not so fast, baby."
My breath hitched. "Let go of me!" My voice cracked as I pulled back.
He leaned in, disgusting, smirking. "Love the way you scream."
Fear lit up my spine like fire. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.
Then—
Andy.
Like thunder through the crowd, he stormed in, eyes wild, jaw locked. He grabbed the guy so fast I barely saw it.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, touching my wife like that?" His voice wasn't loud, but it was sharp. Cold.
The guy blinked. "Your wife?"
Andy didn't answer. He just stared at him like he wanted to end him—and for a moment, I truly believed he might.
He let the man go, but not without a look that promised consequences. Then he turned to me, hand slipping into mine, gripping tight.
"Come on," he said, and led me out of there.
We stepped into the night. The music faded behind us, but my pulse didn't slow. My hands trembled, breath shaky.
Andy turned to me, those fierce eyes softening in an instant.
"Baby…" He cupped my face, gently. "Are you okay?"
I nodded, but the tears were already building in my throat. "He wouldn't stop. I tried to get away…"
"You did everything right," he said, voice steady, full of fire and tenderness all at once. "You don't owe anyone anything. Not your time. Not your body. Not your peace."
The way he looked at me… like I was glass and a flame all at once. Breakable, but burning.
"I wasn't scared," I whispered, "until you weren't there."
That hit him. His jaw clenched. His eyes glistened.
And then he pulled me into him, holding me like he'd never let go again.
"I'm here now," he said into my hair. "And I'm not going anywhere."