At first, she stretches the word out, cooing it with something like praise. But then urgency cuts the sound short. I hear this — the rising desperation in her voice — but it seems to happen a long way off. Not in the immediate realm of her slick flesh, the tightening of her thighs, and the tiny quivers I can almost taste.
It’s when she threads her finger into my hair and tugs hard that I finally hear what she says.
“Drew,now.Make love to menow!”
I raise my eyes to find her face flushed, her upper lip dotted with sweat. It’s the look of erotic anguish that launches me. I move up her body, grab at the ridiculous box of Trojans, and tear one away in mere seconds.
“Yes… Oh thank God…” Evie pants as I roll the thing down over my straining cock. She reaches for me, and her hand closes around me. I cover her grip with mine and guide myself to her opening. The very tip of my sex touches the very edge of hers.
And I stop.
Our eyes lock.
I’m not sure what I expect to see in the green depths of her eyes. Desire? Need? Those are there, but what I see — what makes me want to freeze this moment and live in it for all of time — arrests me like the law never could.
Evie stares into my eyes as if she’s seeing the answer to every question. In me.
“Drew,” she says my name again, but it’s different this time. Centered. Sure. And I know exactly what she’s about to say. She’s going to give me her heart.
And I have to stop her. Not for good. Just long enough to give her mine first. She’s always the one giving. And what more do I have to offer? At least I can take the plunge first. Make it safe for her.
I cover her mouth with mine and drive my hard flesh into her softness. Evie cries out as I fill her, and I catch each sound with teeth and tongue. They are mine now.
When her body clamps around me, my plan to offer her everything I have goes fuzzy at the edges. Her hips lift to take me all the way, and my mind nearly empties. For a moment, I’m aware of nothing but my joining with her. The pull to be deeper inside the sweetest, purest love I’ve ever known.
Evie’s.
But also mine.
What I have for her is the best I’ve ever had. The best I’ve ever been. Here. Now.
I draw back and plant myself deep again, the full-body pleasure of it curling my spine, blowing my mind.
I break our kiss, inhale, exhale, and sense returns. And once again, I find myself wrestling for control. Somehow, I must manage three things at once: Hold back the tide of my own desire, even as Evie mirrors my movements thrust for thrust. Bring her to her pleasure before I surrender to my own. And tell her I love her.
But surely Evie deserves more than those three words.
How do I say it? She has freed me and captured me at the same time. Because of her, I can see a future where only shadows lurked before. Loving her makes me better. Better than the man I was.
The truths of loving her tangle themselves up with the sensation of making love to her. Her breasts against my bare chest, our hearts beating above and below each other. Her eyes locked with mine, silently witnessing as past and future surrender to now. The rhythm of our joining that grows more powerful, more blinding with each thrust.
I grasp for the words, but tongue and brain have both ditched language for other interests.
And then failure threatens on every front.
“Drew, my darling,” Evie begins, and it’s the claim that tips me over the edge. Nerves light up all down my spine, tightening my balls, and firing my glutes. “I—”
I’m going to come. Like never before. And Evie’s not there yet.
The words — as feeble and insufficient as they are — spill from me. “I love you… I love you, Evie.” And even as my control fractures, I angle my hips and drive into her, gripping her ass and heaving her into me. Hoping, praying that the pressure is enough. The friction is enough.
That I am enough to give her what she needs.
And by some miracle, her brow creases. Evie turns her head to the side, biting her lip and wearing the look of exquisite agony, as we both break. Our bodies crash and crash and crash against each other, and I’m pretty damn sure my heart explodes.
But, after a moment of white-hot oblivion, I feel it beating again, slowing in its race to my death, taking cues from Evie’s heart, already easing to recovery.
I try to listen for the sound of hers, but all I get is a small giggle.
