Page 91 of Sterling Heat

She nods, trusting me, and that alone undoes me. My body itches to surge, but my head says take it easy, Sebastian. Be gentle.

With my tip at her entrance, my dick weeps to drive into her, but I hold back the beast. Gliding forward, inch-by-excruciating inch, her body takes me in, gloriously accepting me. Enya shifts, widening her legs, as I move with patience I didn’t think I could master. Time stands still as her heat surrounds me, comforts me, warms me to my bones. Taking me into her body is the biggest act of trust she could give me. It’s also a connection I’ve never felt before. A soul-shattering honesty. We fit so well together. She’s perfect for me.

Reaching for her hand, I bring it over her head and spread my fingers between hers until she’s clutching at mine.

“This okay?” I strain, willing myself to continue the slow pace.

With her hand gripping mine, she sighs. “You feel so good.” Her channel clenches around me, drawing me into her.

“Dammit, Enya.” My resolve breaks and I thrust the final inches inward. Pausing, I’m seated to the hilt. With my heart racing and my thoughts scattering, I’m the one who needs a minute to collect myself.

Nothing has ever felt like this before. Nothing.

She’s a flame but doesn’t burn. She’s heat that doesn’t scorch. She’s a light in a life that’s been too dark.

As if she senses I need time, she lifts her head and kisses me, sweet and soothing. My dick twitches within her, and she falls back with another nervous laugh. I reach for her other hand, pulling it above her head as well and stare down at her.

“You’re the most incredible person, sugar. I’ve never known anyone like you. So trusting. So giving. God, I don’t deserve you.” Her purity has no place touching the dirt in me, but a tornado couldn’t drag me off this rooftop.

“I’m nothing special,” she whispers as we stare at one another. “But you deserve anything and everything. You’re the best man I’ve ever known.”

It’s too much, so I kiss her to stop her from speaking. Or maybe it’s in hopes to swallow her words and trap them inside me.

As we kiss, her hips flex upward and I dig deeper into her. Releasing her mouth, I rest my forehead against hers and pull back, dragging my dick from her depths. Not eager to leave her body, I’ll only get to the tip before the desire to fill her will pull me forward again.

Back and forth, I move at this measured pace of near escape before seeking refuge inside her again. Enya matches the rhythm, chasing my retreats before catching me and reeling me back in.

We’re making love when I don’t think I’ve ever understood the meaning of the words.

Tender. Patience. Every movement is pleasant torture. Every motion is teasing passion. I’m almost giddy while my body electrifies, crackling, coming alive from the lazy dance.

“Sebastian,” Enya moans, tipping back her head and exposing her pretty neck to me. “Yes.”

It’s an answer to an unasked question. She’s so close and I’ll be right behind her. Releasing one hand, I slip my fingers between us, eager to tip her over the edge. Her legs lift, wrapping around my lower back, trapping my arm in a way I never want to be freed.

Enya moves faster, drawing me deeper.

“Baby,” I strain, holding back while keeping pace. My skin prickles. My muscles are coming untethered, about to unleash the restraint.

Patience, man.

The warning does nothing to soothe me. The intensity is too much. Enya is too much, and yet, she’s everything. She’s sunshine peeking through heavy clouds. And laughter for a sad soul. And the brightness of fireworks across a dark sky.

Just then, the first one explodes in the distance. Not close enough that we feel the force of the boom but near enough the sky lights in speckles of red and white. Beneath me, Enya’s face reflects the trickle of fire illuminated behind me before cascading down a black canvas.

Again and again, the fireworks blast. Red for passion. White means innocence. Blue is comfort.

Our pace quickens. My hips thrust, forcing me deeper. Enya surges, taking me harder. Eventually, we’re our own explosive celebration of bursting color and booming sound. Enya cries out my name, shattering around me and setting me off, like a personal rocket blaster.

Spent, I collapse over her before rolling to my side, taking her with me as we’re still attached. Her leg remains around my hip, and I hold her to my chest, kissing her forehead, her eyelids, her nose.

Another flash of fireworks implodes above of us and three little words I’ve never said threaten to detonate, scattering across this rooftop, and highlighting something I’m certain I’ll never feel again.

I love her. I love Enya.

Afraid she might disappear, like the spent fireworks, I tug her tighter to my chest.

Knowing a finale is inevitable, I can’t seem to regulate my breathing.