She doesn’t need to say it twice.
I strip off my pants and boxer briefs with lightning speed. She watches me, her chest heaving, eyes glazed with want.
When I push inside her slick walls, we both let out a groan. She stretches around me, slow at first as she gets used to me. I move slowly, not wanting to hurt her. She's so tight and hot and perfect, I have to hold still for a second just to keep from losing it completely.
Her eyes are squeezed shut; her teeth clenched as I inch deeper.
“Okay?” I ask, trailing kisses down the side of her neck.
“More than okay.” Her hands grip my shoulders. “Move.”
So I move. I do exactly what she commands.
This time isn't like the first time. The first time was desperate, frantic, both of us tumbling over an edge we'd been fighting against for weeks. This is slower. Deeper. Intimate. And something I know I’ve never experienced with another woman.
I watch her face with every push and pull of my cock, I see every flicker of pleasure when I slide against her clit, I hear every sound she makes when I find her spot. I drink it all in, completely in awe of the woman underneath me.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” I murmur against her lips.
“Don't stop—don't stop saying—” she chokes out, scraping her nails down my spine. It burns so fucking good. My skin is on fire, my cock throbbing as her walls quiver and quake around it.
“Never.” I pick up the pace, the air around us thick with the scent of sex and sweat and unbridled need. “I'll never stop telling you how incredible you are. How strong. How beautiful.” I thrust harder, hitting the spot that makes her scream. “How you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.”
Oh. Shit. Those words slip out before I can catch them and swallow them back down.
Her eyes fly open, flickers of gold flaring in the depths. “Lochlan,” she breathes right before she cries out and spasms against me, her pussy clenching tight around my cock. Only then do I let go. I bury my face in her neck, everything going white at the edges as the orgasm tears through me and I fill her with everything I have to give.
Time stops after that. We lie tangled together on the couch, spent and unwilling to part, our limbs entwined. Her head rests on my chest, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. Reaper hasn't moved from his bed. Smart dog. He knows when to give us privacy.
“So,” she says after a while. “That was...”
“Yeah.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “It was.”
She's quiet for a minute, tilting her head to gaze up at me. I let the silence sit. She'll talk when she's ready.
Her phone buzzes on the coffee table. She reaches for it and squints at the screen.
“It’s Luna,” she says. “Checking in after the Riccardo thing.”
“She knows about that already?”
“She knows everything. It's her superpower. And, of course, Vincenzo would have called to let her know.” Adriana lets out a little laugh and types out a quick response. Then she tosses the phone aside. “She wants to have lunch tomorrow to catch up.”
“That’s a great idea. You should go.”
“I know. I've been neglecting her since all this started.” She settles back against me. “She worries.”
“Sounds like she’s a good sister.”
“The best.” Adriana nods and pauses for a second. “Did your mom worry about you? Before she died?”
The question catches me off guard. We don't talk about my mom much. I don't really talk about her with anyone.
“Yeah,” I finally say. “She worried constantly. About all of us, but me especially. She used to say I carried too much on my shoulders for someone so young. My brothers say that, too.” I let out a dry laugh. “My dad doesn’t think enough about it to give a shit, though.”
“And you were seventeen when she died, right?” She shakes her head, her hand flattening on my chest, right over my heart. “That's too young to lose a parent.”
“Any age is too young.” I think about her dad in that hospital bed, hooked up to all those machines. “At least you still have a chance. Your dad could still wake up.”
