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I tug on his hair, and he slides up my body until the tip of him runs through my wetness. I offer my hips, and he slides inside me, sinking deeper with each thrust. He holds his weight off me with his elbows on either side of me, and his lips meet mine.
We kiss in a tangled web of pleasure while our hearts pound against one another’s chests. It feels as if we’re addicted to touching each other’s skin because both our hands keep roaming over the other’s body.
He pulls back a bit and stares at me, circling his hips, grinding his pelvis along my clit. Sex with Hudson is like entering another dimension. It’s so intense I can barely hang on, clenching down to try to stop myself from combusting.
I watch as his eyes darken with desire, and his hips move faster and harder. He’s there, and I am too. Pulling his head down, I kiss him, hoping every ounce of what I feel for him is conveyed through my actions, that he feels the energy in this room too.
It all becomes too much, and I can’t hold back anymore. My orgasm rolls through me, my insides gripping him tightly, my body arching from the bed until every muscle contracts. Hudson pulls back, watching me as bliss floats through me and my back slowly sinks back down, my body becomes tranquil and calm.
He pounds into me with raw, rapid thrusts until his torso rises up from mine, and his neck pulls back, his eyes rolling back. He pumps into me a few times before he stills, and his eyes shut for only a moment. When they open and our eyes meet, there’s only love exchanged between us.
I push back the tears that well up because I’ve never been handled like this, never experienced such emotion when having sex. And the fact it’s with Hudson only makes it better.
He remains on top of me, unmoving for a moment. I’m not complaining. I don’t want to part either. But eventually he slides out of me and heads into the bathroom.
I panic for a moment, knowing that what just happened changes everything. My fight-or-flight instinct is riding me hard—my mind begging me to grab my clothes and run. That voice at the back of my head tells me it was hormones, not love that brought us into this room. Now that it’s out of our system, we’ll go back to co-parenting our daughter as we always have.
Hudson emerges with a washcloth in hand and cleans me up before disappearing into the bathroom again. When he returns, he crawls in next to me and wraps his arms around my body. I go to him, like an addict to their drug of choice. All that panic and doubt ripples away in the safety of his arms.
We might be headed toward trouble, but I don’t care right now. No one has to know what we’re doing. It can be our little secret. What’s the harm in that?
