[Maddie’s POV]
My world narrows to Emily’s touch, Emily’s mouth, the feeling of skin against skin. My leg throbs—a dull ache that pulses in time with my heartbeat—but I don’t care. This is more important. This is everything.
Emily’s careful even in her urgency, shifting us so my injured leg is supported against the mattress, propped on a pillow. “Is this okay?” she murmurs against my collarbone, her breath hot on my skin.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp, my hands sliding down her back, feeling the muscles shift beneath my palms. “Please don’t stop.”
We move together like we do on the ice—instinctively, reading each other’s bodies without needing words. My hands explore her back, her sides, memorizing the feel of her. The curve of her waist, the ridge of her spine, the soft skin behind her ear that makes her shiver when I touch it.
Emily’s mouth travels lower, kissing down my sternum, her hair tickling my skin. When she takes my breast in her mouth I arch into it, gasping her name, my hands fisting in the sheets. Heat floods through me, overwhelming and perfect, building with every touch of her tongue.
I pull her up to kiss her again, needing to taste her, needing the connection of our mouths as much as I need her touch. Our tongues meet and I can feel her smiling against my lips.
“I love you,” I whisper against her lips, and saying it out loud still feels like stepping off a cliff—terrifying and exhilarating.
“I love you too,” Emily breathes, and then her hand slides lower, over my hip, between my thighs, and I moan against her mouth. “Is this okay?” she asks, her voice rough with desire.
“Don’t stop,” I tell her again, more desperately this time. “Please, Emily, don’t stop.” Her fingers move with purpose, finding exactly where I need her. She knows my body so well after all these months, knows the rhythm that makes me gasp, the pressure that has me digging my fingers into her shoulders.
It’s different than before. Every other time we’ve done this, there was fear underneath it—the sense that we were doing something forbidden, something we’d have to hide and deny. Now there’s permission. Now there’s love acknowledged between them, spoken out loud, real and terrifying and beautiful.
Emily knows exactly how to touch me, where I need her most. Her mouth is on my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, and I don’t care who sees it tomorrow. I’m gasping her name, my fingers digging into her shoulders hard enough to bruise.
“That’s it,” Emily murmurs against my skin, her voice low and encouraging. “Let me hear you.”
I’m close, so close, and Emily knows it. She doesn’t let up, her fingers moving faster, her thumb finding that perfect spot that has me crying out. When I come apart, it’s with Emily’s name on my lips and tears streaming down my face—from pleasure, from relief, from love I finally don’t have to hide.
Emily holds me through it, whispering “I love you” over and over against my temple, my cheek, my mouth. Her free hand strokes my hair, grounding me as waves of pleasure crash through my body.
When I can breathe again, when the world stops spinning, I pull Emily up for a deep kiss. I can taste salt—from her tears or mine, I’m not sure. Maybe both. “Your turn,” I whisper against her mouth, already moving my hands over her body.
“You don’t have to,” Emily says, but I’m already kissing down her neck, her collarbone, feeling her pulse jump beneath my lips.
“I want to,” I tell her between kisses. “I need to.” I’m limited by my leg, can’t move the way I want to, but I don’t let that stop me.

“Maddie,” she moans, her fingers tightening in my hair. “God, Maddie—” When Emily comes, she cries out loud enough that I worry briefly about the other dorm rooms, but then I decide I don’t care. Let them hear. Let them know that Emily Harper is mine and I am hers.

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