“Yes… don’t stop…”
I was already so close and I shudder violently as my orgasm surges through me, wave after wave of exquisite pleasure. He comes then, too, shouting, groaning, pouring himself into me in long, hot throbs.
He stays inside me, rolling us to our sides, both of us panting, hearts hammering.
I think we both drift off to sleep for a while. When I wake up, he’s still inside me. Cock-warming. I love it. It’s so intimate and close. I trail my fingertips up his back and he stirs.
“You okay, angel?” He kisses my hair.
“I’m so good.”
“Yeah. Me too. Want me to pull out?”
“In a minute.” I give his cock a squeeze and he grunts. I smile.
“Now this is why I married you.”
I choke on a laugh. Always the smartass comments in bed. Easier for him than trying to say how he feels.
But then he adds, “I’ve missed you so bad, Ayla. So bad.”
My heart balloons in my chest, almost into my throat. I give a tiny nod against him and manage to squeak out, “Me, too.”
He caresses my shoulder and arm. “How about we get through this weekend and then when we’re home, we can talk.”
“Okay. When do you play next?”
“Monday night.”
“Geez. Okay.”
I want to talk. I know we have to. But right now, things feel… perfect. And I guess I still feel a tiny niggle of doubt and a shred of fear about what could happen.
We snuggle quietly, my head tucked beneath his chin. Then I say, “Nobody asked us about Kane.”
His body tenses minutely, but I feel it. “You mean here? Your family?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re probably uncomfortable. People don’t know what to say or do. They’re afraid of how we might react.”
“Mmm. Yeah. But… I want them to remember him.”
Carson is silent. “Yeah.”
“He was important to us.”
He nods. “Do you want to talk about him?”
“I do.” I hesitate. “I love talking about him.”
After a pulsing pause, he asks, “Do you want to talk to me about him?”
My heart bumps. “Can I? There were times I felt you didn’t want to talk about him.”
His throat works. “Yeah. That’s probably true.”
“Why?”
