Page 38 of Her Age Gap Match

She found her pace and stayed there—steady, deep, every movement deliberate, her hips rolling forward and back in a rhythm that was building something slow and inevitable. I could feel it in the way she tightened around me, the way her breathing changed, the small sounds she made each time she came down fully.

I moved one hand up her spine, into her hair, pulled her head back gently so I could see her face.

She was watching me.

Even now, even like this—those green eyes on mine, open, nothing hidden. Like she'd decided a long time ago that she wasn't going to look away from me and she was sticking to it.

I brought her mouth to mine and kissed her slow while she moved over me, felt her exhale into it, felt her hips stutter and then find the rhythm again. She pressed herself down harder, chasing it, her hips angled slightly. I only did enough to help her along, my hands gliding up and down her spine, soothing her as she took what she needed. Her pussy clamped around me. I waited for that golden moment, waited to tumble over the edge with her.

“Take it, baby,” I murmured against her lips. “Take what you want from me.”

“I want everything,” she gasped.

“Then that’s what I’m gonna give you.”

She started moving faster. I held her close, her whole body pressed against mine, the friction unbearable. Her big breasts between us, her thighs on either side of me, her curves bouncing in that curtain of red curls. Yeah. I fucking loved her. Maybe I’d loved her for two years and just hadn’t known it.

“I’m close,” I gritted out. “Want you to come on my cock, Poppy.”

“I love you,” she replied. “I love you, John⁠—”

“Love you too—oh fuck—fuck⁠—”

I couldn’t stop it.

I felt her release, shuddering and shaking against me, clenching so tight around me, and I was coming too—clutching her to me, breathing her scent, undone. I jolted and filled the condom, gasping, moaning. Her fingernails dug into my shoulders. Her thighs squeezed my hips.

Finally, I relaxed just enough to lean against the headboard, Poppy slumping against me with her head on my shoulder.

The apartment was quiet.

My thoughts were loud.

Twelve years since I’d gotten out of prison and started over. Two years since I went to Bloom and saw this woman for the first time and knew they couldn’t find me a better match, even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself.

Three days since she’d shown up to a coffee shop with that compatibility report, and I was done for.

I had no idea what I wanted to say to her. Everything?

But Poppy was pulling back from me, this soft, hazy smile on her face. She reached up and dragged her fingers through my hair, and I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her again—slow, lazy, exhausted.

She hummed, still combing her fingers through my hair.

“What color was it?” she asked. “Before.”

I glanced at her curls. “Red. Not like yours.”

Her smile got bigger. “But that means our babies will probably have red hair too.”

Pulled her in for another kiss. I wanted to kiss her all night and talk to her all night. It was going to be hard to do both when I already wanted to fuck her again.

“How many do you want?” I asked.

She thought about it. “Hm…three sound okay?”

I nodded. “Three sounds great.”

Then I took her in my arms and rolled her to her back.