Chapter 96: Choose Me

Astrid

The kitchen light threw soft shadows across the counter when I finally pulled back from the kiss. My lips still tingled. Reed’s hands rested lightly at my waist, not holding me in place, just present. He watched me the way he always did, careful and intense, as if one wrong move might make me disappear.

"Was that a mistake?" he asked, voice low.

I shook my head. The answer came without hesitation. "No."

A beat of silence stretched between us. My pulse hammered in my throat. I could still taste him. I could still feel the controlled pressure of his mouth. Something restless and hungry stirred under my skin.

"Do it again," I said.

Reed’s eyes darkened. He leaned in, but slower this time, giving me every chance to change my mind. When our mouths met the second time the careful edge began to fray. His tongue brushed mine. One hand slid up my back, fingers spreading wide between my shoulder blades. The other stayed at my hip, thumb stroking absently over the fabric of my shirt as if he needed the reminder that I was real and choosing this.

I pressed closer. The edge of the kitchen counter dug into the small of my back. Reed’s body followed, caging me in without trapping me. I felt the hard line of him against my stomach and a soft sound escaped my throat. He broke the kiss just long enough to look at me.

"Tell me if you want to stop."

"I don’t." I reached up and tugged the front of his shirt, pulling him down again. "I want you to stop holding back."

A rough laugh left him, almost disbelieving. "You have no idea how long I’ve been holding back."

"Then show me."

That was the moment the last of his restraint cracked. Reed kissed me harder, deeper, the kind of kiss that stole breath and replaced it with heat. His hands moved with purpose now, sliding under the hem of my shirt, palms skating over bare skin. I arched into the touch. When his fingers found the front clasp of my bra and flicked it open I moaned against his mouth. He pushed the fabric aside and cupped both breasts, thumbs circling my nipples until they tightened into aching peaks.

"Sensitive here," he murmured, voice rough with something close to wonder. "I noticed that before. Every time I got close you shivered."

"Reed—"

"I’ve thought about this." He pinched one nipple lightly, rolling it between his fingers while his mouth trailed down my neck. "About the sounds you’d make if I finally got to touch you like this. About how wet you’d get for me."

My answer was another moan as he lifted my shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it aside. The cool kitchen air kissed my bare skin for only a second before his mouth closed over one breast. He sucked hard, teeth grazing just enough to sting in the sweetest way. I clutched at his hair, hips shifting restlessly against him. He switched to the other side, giving it the same focused attention until I was panting and pressing my thighs together.

Reed’s hand slid down my stomach and under the waistband of my shorts. His fingers slipped past the edge of my underwear and found me already slick. A low, satisfied sound rumbled in his chest.

"Fuck, Astrid." His forehead dropped against mine for a moment. "You’re soaked."

"Your fault," I managed, the words shaky with need.

He rubbed slow circles over my clit, watching my face the entire time. Every time my breath hitched he adjusted the pressure, learning exactly what made me tremble. I rocked against his hand, chasing more. When he pushed two fingers inside me I cried out, the stretch sudden and perfect. He pumped them steadily, curling just right while his thumb kept working my clit.

"Look at me," he said. I did. His usual calm was gone, replaced by something raw and hungry. "I need to know you’re choosing this. Choosing me."

"I am." The words came out on a moan as he thrust his fingers deeper. "I’m choosing you, Reed. Right now. Not because of the bond. Because I want you."

Something broke open in his expression. He kissed me hard, almost desperate, while his fingers kept moving. The dual sensation of his mouth and his hand drove me higher and higher until the first orgasm crashed through me. I moaned into the kiss, legs shaking, inner walls clenching around his fingers. He worked me through every pulse, gentling only when the intensity faded into soft aftershocks.

I was still catching my breath when I reached for his belt. Reed’s hands covered mine, but he didn’t stop me. He only watched as I unbuckled it, shoved his jeans and underwear down, and wrapped my fingers around the thick length of him. He was hard and hot in my palm. A low groan left him when I stroked from base to tip.

"Kitchen counter," I said, voice still unsteady. "I want you inside me."

He lifted me onto the edge without another word. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he stepped between them. The blunt head of his cock pressed against my entrance. He paused there, eyes locked on mine, waiting.

I pulled him closer with my heels. "Now."

Reed pushed in slowly, inch by careful inch, until he was buried to the hilt. The stretch burned in the best way. I moaned loud and open, head tipping back. He stayed still for a moment, giving me time to adjust, forehead pressed to mine.

"You feel perfect," he said, the words almost reverent. "So tight. So wet for me."

Then he started to move. Deep, controlled thrusts that grew harder as my moans encouraged him. The kitchen filled with the wet sound of him sliding in and out of me and the soft slap of skin. Every time he bottomed out my breasts bounced and he leaned down to catch a nipple between his teeth, biting just hard enough to make me cry out again.

I met every thrust, nails digging into his shoulders. The mate bond hummed between us, amplifying every spark of pleasure until it felt like I could feel his heartbeat inside my own chest. Reed’s composure was gone. His breathing turned ragged. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to leave marks. He drove into me deeper, faster, chasing the sounds I made like they were the only thing that mattered.

"Come for me again," he ordered, voice rough. "I want to feel it."

His thumb found my clit and rubbed in tight circles. The second orgasm tore through me harder than the first. I moaned his name as my body clamped down around him. Reed followed a few thrusts later, burying himself deep and coming with a low, broken groan against my neck.

We stayed like that for a long moment, chests heaving, skin damp. Eventually he eased out of me and gathered me close, still standing between my legs. His hands stroked up and down my back in slow, absent patterns. I rested my cheek against his shoulder and listened to the steady thud of his heart.

Being with him alone did not feel like choosing sides. It felt like learning another language of the same bond. Different intensity. Different rhythm. Still ours.

"Does this make things strange?" I asked quietly.

Reed knew exactly what I meant. "Only if we let it."

I relaxed against him. The quiet settled around us, warm and easy. His fingers traced idle shapes along my arm. I closed my eyes for a second, soaking in the rare softness of having Reed Ashwood completely unguarded with me.

Then a sound came from the hallway. The front door opening. Footsteps.

Xander’s voice carried into the kitchen, casual and curious. "Why is the kitchen light still on?"

I tensed. Reed’s arms tightened around me, but when I looked up his mouth was curved in the smallest, most amused smile I had ever seen on him.

"Don’t move," he murmured.

"Reed."

He only kissed my forehead once, calm as ever, while Xander’s footsteps grew closer.