A gruff chuckle escaped my lips. I was too rough around the edges to be beautiful.
My laughter died as quickly as it started. It had been so long, and I was getting too close too soon, so I willed myself to pull her off me.
Guiding Candace backward, I had her sit on the edge of the bed and lean back.
Then it was my turn to get on my knees.
She was soft against my mouth, everywhere I touched. Her legs shook as my lips dragged along her knee, the inside of her thigh, the very heart of her. I slid my tongue along her seam and felt restless hands search for purchase in my short hair.
Candace squirmed when I sucked on her smooth skin, so I did it again and again. I moved closer as her hands tugged helplessly at my scalp, wedging my big body deeper between her spread legs, helping her drape her thighs over my shoulders.
Those fantasies, the ones that had made me wonder about her sounds and her taste, were being rewritten with every pass of my tongue. The truth emerged more vibrant and intoxicating than any daydream.
When I finally pressed one thick finger inside her wet heat, I felt the desperate rhythm of her release and heard the sharp gasp she made as a result.
Candace fought to pull me closer as I kissed my way up her body. I relished her seeking touch, her panting breaths warm against my neck. And when I grabbed the condom from my bedside table, I was so damn grateful she’d found her release because I wasn’t going to last. She felt too good, too soft, too perfect under my hands.
Nails scraped down my back when we were finally joined. I had to stop and just breathe, my head bowed against her shoulder as her legs lifted to wrap around my back.
“Is it later yet?” she whispered.
I smiled into her smooth skin before I brought my lips to hers. The reminder and her kiss helped to ground me, to soothe the impatient edge that beggedmoreandnowandfaster.
We kissed for long minutes as I set a steady rhythm and she matched me with every roll of her hips. Her thighs held me as I rocked into her. My hands found her breasts, her hips, the delicate curve of her cheek.
Then I let my fingers drift to the place where we were joined. Candace jolted as I touched her, her rhythm faltering momentarily as I worked her sensitive flesh in circles over and over. I wanted to get her there—with me. I wanted to hit that quickly rising peak together.
As her breath sped and her muscles tightened, I kept my pace and my patience. I was rewarded by a gasping moan and Candace’s delicate inner muscles pulsing around me.
When I couldn’t hold back any longer, I closed my eyes and let myself go. Pleasure forced a groan from between my lips as my movements became jerky and inelegant.
I flipped us so that I didn’t crush Candace, and the warm weight of her across my body had contentment settling somewhere deep within.
As I returned to myself, soft lips grazed my temple. I could feel her fingers tracing the planes of my face.
Then she settled too, her head coming to rest on my chest as I worked to even out my breathing.
Those old fantasies didn’t hold a candle to the woman in my arms. I couldn’t have known before, how the reality of her would compare to the utter inadequacy of my imagination. But now I did. And I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover.
When I emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, Candace was standing in the kitchen in her pajamas.
She’d told me to meet her there for dessert after I cleaned up. I’d kissed her forehead and tried to remember how to walk.
She’d just put a slice of cake onto a plate when she turned and caught sight of me. Her gaze lingered over my bare chest before dipping down to the cotton lounge pants I wore.
It was silly to feel my cheeks heat at her appreciative stare, especially after what we’d just done, but I liked having her eyes on me. And I liked having the freedom to look back even more.
“What you got there?” I finally asked.
“Caramel cake from the Orchard Bake Shop.” She set the knife down and licked a bit of frosting off her thumb.
I swallowed and Candace grinned.
She set two plates on the kitchen table and took a seat. I grabbed two forks and joined her.
Before any awkwardness could settle in the vacant chairs beside us, my phone buzzed from where I’d left it charging on the counter.
I went to check it, just in case there was an emergency at the orchard or Nick or Amy needed something, but it was a text from Wenn. I’d seen my friend a few weeks ago. We’d gone up to Craggy Peak to get some sunset shots. He’d fed me pumpkin scones, and I’d brought him a lager he liked from Trailview Brewing.
