"Maybe it’s a sign that we were made for each other?"
"Yeah." His breath is already ragged, his biceps quivering as he forces himself to move slowly. "That must be it."
We're both beginning to sweat, breathing heavily, as my hands skim around his chest, his shoulders, his rippled abs. Meanwhile, his rough palms knead my breasts and grip my hips, pulling me into each slow thrust.
"You have no idea how hard it is not to just nail you into this bed." His voice is a smoky growl. "Wait – how about this?"
He kneels up, pulling me with him. Now I can wrap my arms around his shoulders and use my thighs to raise and lower myself at my own pace. With a quick shimmy, I find just the right angle to rub my clit against the base of his shaft with every stroke. A gasp rattles through me as I grind on him.
"That’s it." His deep eyes meet mine. "Am I hitting the right spot?"
I nod, breathless.
"Damn, your sweet pussy is choking me already." He helps me lift myself up and down, squeezing my cheeks as he works me along his length.
Movement catches my eye, and I turn my head to see our reflection in the darkened window. He follows my gaze.
"Holy fuck." He leans me back, scraping his teeth against my nipple to make me shiver. "Our own private sex show."
Thane must sense my tremble. "The windows are glazed. Nobody can look in. Don't worry – I would never take a chance on anyone seeing my precious girl like this."
I love that he's so possessive, so dedicated to caring for me. So intent on being rough enough, and gentle enough, and just…perfect.
“I love that you're so sexy and innocent at the same time.” His hips tilt, each deep thrust igniting every nerve ending inside me. "I love that you’re an artsy chick." Three sudden, deep strokes leave me gasping. "I love that I already know we’ll still be having long meandering conversations when we're seventy."
The pressure inside me is building fast. The friction against my button is perfect, combined with the sensation of being stretched to the limit. I'm so wet that he's able to move even faster, increasing his already frantic pace.
I didn't even know it was possible to fuck so hard while still making love. Time melts as we revel in the sensation of sharing every inch of our bodies and souls completely. Thane grips my waist, pounding up into me while caressing and murmuring such sweetness. The orgasm of a lifetime is circling close, gathering up the last few fragments of energy before kicking me over the edge.
"So beautiful, my angel. I can't wait for you to move in with me. We're going to be so?—"
“I love you." Gripping his face with both hands, I ride him hard, the bed shaking beneath us as I take his thick cock even deeper. "I love you. We're going to be…oooh!" The climax hits me hard, tsunami waves of pleasure radiating from my pussy and my heart at the same time.
"Amazing together?" he grunts. "Addicted to each other? Yes. Yes to all of it."
His cock swells inside me, then my breathy scream is joined by Thane’s grunting, raspy low roar as he pounds into me withwhat feels like his full strength. "My angel," he growls, burying his face between my breasts. "My gorgeous goddess. My sweet baby."
I swear, I come a second time as thick spurts of wet heat splash into me, filling me up completely as I writhe from the roots of my hair to the soles of my feet.
I collapse against his shoulder, my pulse racing with excitement and relief. "Easy, angel. I need to catch my breath." After several slow exhales, Thane lifts me carefully off his cock, then carries me to the bathroom.
He turns on the water, then holds me in his arms and gently rinses my body while avoiding getting my hair wet. I especially love the way he spreads my thighs, rinsing my tired pussy almost mechanically, trying not to turn either of us on again.
By the time we're bundled up in our plush hotel robes and dinner has been ordered, Thane is wearing a grin that just won't quit. "Come here for a second."
I go to the window, my legs still a bit weak. He holds me tightly, spinning our backs to the skyline outside. Then he holds up his phone and takes a selfie of the two of us.
"Who’s that for?"
"My mother. She'll be thrilled to hear that her matchmaking services will not be needed."
I smack his shoulder. "We're in bathrobes! You can't send her that."
His bottom lip goes out in a dramatic pout. "Really?"
"Really. We'll take a proper photo tomorrow morning. Promise you won’t send her that?"
"Promise. Not deleting it, though."
