He throws one leg over and stands in front of me, hands on my hips. One arm snakes around to hold me steady, the other reaches for the hem of my shirt. His fingers graze my stomach, mapping the planes of my body. I arch, offering him more surface to explore, my breath catching in my throat.
He exposes my skin bit by bit, trailing kisses along the path his hand takes, worshipping every inch. I thread my fingers through his belt loops, marvelling at the strength I find in his hips, his thighs, the taut firmness of his muscles under his tee. When he finally slips his hand beneath the waistband of my jeans, I shiver, every nerve ending alive.
With steady precision, he guides me down so that the cool frame of the bike supports me. My jeans disappear, tossed to the ground, and I’m lying there, spread before him, knowing someone could come up here at any moment and see everything. Weirdly, I don’t care. All I can see is him. His eyes, so hungry, watching me with a satisfaction that never seems to get old.
He releases himself, stroking up and down with one hand as he stares, his fingers still trailing over my skin. The air between us crackles as he presses forward, and the sensation of him filling me finally sends me over the brink of breathlessness. I clutch the handlebars, knuckles whitening, as the world narrows to the friction of our bodies, the rough hum of the highway, and the sound of my own ragged breathing.
He matches every movement to mine, hands gripping my waist, guiding the angle, the depth. My arms loop around his shoulders, skin against skin, and I lean forward into him, savoring the steady build of heat and pressure. His weight anchors me; his rhythm pulls me closer to a place of fierce, beautiful surrender. I don’t care how loud I’m moaning, or how risky this is. Being here with him, curled around him, making love on this bike... it is unlike anything I have ever experienced.
“Just like this,” I whisper, voice rough with desire.
His only reply is a low, possessive growl. Each thrust reverberates through us both, a shared current of pleasure that rises faster and faster. I clench around him, letting the friction take me higher, teetering on the edge until I can’t hold back. With a soft cry that mingles with the distant crash of waves, I release—my muscles trembling as warmth surges through me. He follows soon after, burying himself deeply, and a final groan slips from his lips, dissolving into the night. For a moment we stay locked together, the world suspended.
Slowly, he eases out and I sink back down onto the seat, a trickle of sweat traveling down my forehead. “You know I love you,” he murmurs, swiping it away with his thumb.
“I know,” I say, my voice light. “And I love you, probably more.”
He grunts. “Impossible.”
I grin.
He tilts my chin up so our eyes meet. His irises catch the starlight, flecks of silver dancing in them. “Our child is going to have the best parents.”
My pulse quickens at the reminder of the new life growing between us. I press my palm against my abdomen. “Do you have any names you like?”
His face gets serious, then he laughs. “Well, obviously. If it’s a boy, Edward Phoenix. If it’s a girl, Eveline Phoenix.”
I laugh. “Edward?”
He throws his hands up. “What’s wrong with Edward?”
“Nothing, it’s just...”
“Don’t say it, baby,” he warns, playfully. “Eddie is a good, solid name.”
I chuckle. “Eddie is kind of cute...”
He tugs me closer, wrapping his arms around me, and we sit there, just taking it all in. Above us, the night sky is studded with stars that seem to bear witness to our hopes, the promise of the life we’ll share. In the afterglow of our moment, grounded by trust and lit by love, I know without a doubt that there is nothing—nothing—we can’t face together.
