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“I’ve only been with Paisley’s dad,” she whispers.
The reality of what that means, that after all these years, I’m the man she’s letting into her world, into her body, is humbling. Slowly, I slide inside her, inch by inch, giving her body time to adjust. When I’m fully seated, I bury my face in her neck and focus on breathing. She’s so fucking tight. I’ve never felt anything quite like it. Electricity pulses through my veins, my breathing labored, and my heart feels as though it could barrel right out of my chest. All I’ve done is slide inside her. I’m still, she’s still, and it’s the most profound moment of my life.
Lifting my head, I look down at her. Holding my weight on one hand, I use the other to push her hair out of her face. “I’m the last,” I tell her. Her hands are under my arms, gripping my back, her legs locked tight around my ass. Confusion mars her beautiful face. I need to move. My cock is pulsing inside her, begging me to move. I need to make sure she understands before I do. “He was your first, Ris, and I’m your last.”
A tear slides down her cheek. I drop my head and kiss it away then begin to move. Pulling my hips back, I slowly slide home again. That’s what she feels like—home. I’ve barely been inside her, and that fact is obvious. There will never be anyone like her.
She’s the one.
Her hips lift as I quicken my strokes, powering in and out of her. I’m a man on a mission. “You feel so good,” I manage to say, thrusting in and out of her over and over again.
“There,” she says when I roll my hips. “That,” she instructs.
I do it again, and her muscles tighten around my cock. “I need you there, Ris. I’m so fucking close,” I warn her.
“T-there,” she moans deep in the back of her throat. Her pussy is going crazy as it squeezes the fuck out of my cock.
“That’s it, baby.” I swivel my hips again, just how she likes it. Her nails dig into my back, and her legs are locked around me like a vise. Her head tilts back, and she cries out my name. She’s squeezing my cock, milking me as I release inside her, following her over the edge of the bliss we’ve created together.
Sliding out of her, I fall beside her on the bed, pulling her into my arms, where she’s practically lying on top of me. I kiss the top of her head, holding on to her like my life depends on it. “You wreck me,” I pant.
“Is it always like this? I don’t remember sex being so… explosive.”
“That’s us, baby. It’s never felt like that before. Never,” I assure her.
“How long until we can do that again?”
“I need a little time. Let me catch my breath.”
Her hands trail up and down my abs. “You said some stuff,” she says cautiously.
“Uh-huh.” I’m still having trouble breathing regularly. I wasn’t kidding when I told her she wrecked me.
“Was it the moment? I won’t hold it against you if it was, but I just… need to know.”
“Fuck that.” My words come out a little more forcefully than I intended them to. “I meant every word. You’re mine now. No man will ever feel your wrecking powers,” I say, making her chuckle.
“Maybe,” she says, a playful tone to her voice. “I reserve the right to amend my agreement after round two.”
“I’ll show you round two.” I stand from the bed to dispose of the condom, grabbing another from the drawer on my way back through. I proceed to prove to her over and over again all through the night, that her decision to stay with me was the right one.Waking up in his arms is something I could get used to. My back is to his chest, and I can feel his hot breath against my neck. It’s comforting, and I never want to leave. I want to stay in this bed, with his strong arms wrapped around me. I want to live in this fantasy world we’ve created. Last night, he made a lot of declarations, ones he swears are true, but I’m not so naïve to know that things change in the light of day. I know that words are exchanged in the heat of the moment, and when that moment fizzles, when the intensity and the high are gone, regret takes its place. Me, I have no regrets. I meant every word, every touch, but Easton… well, he might not have. That’s why I’m lying here in his arms, still, afraid to move an inch, not wanting this fantasy to be over.
His lips press against my bare shoulder. “Morning, beautiful.” His husky voice washes over me. “How did you sleep?”
