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“Ava.” I press my head back against the bed and she rocks against me, working my cock into a frenzy.
“I want to feel you bare,” she says.
We’ve used a condom every other time. “Are you...protected?”
She nods. “I’m on the pill and I keep up my tests. Single gal’s gotta protect herself.”
Single gal.My gut clenches and I pull her down, smashing my mouth against hers. “I’m clean, too. I get a physical every year. And it’s been...”
So long. Now it feels light-years away. I can’t imagine having anyone else here. I don’twantanyone else here.
And the thought of her being with another man...
The visceral sound in my head is almost inhumane. Without hesitation, I flip us over and pin her beneath me. Parting her, I drag my fingers through her moisture, preparing her. When I push one inside her, then two, she clenches around me.
“Oh god,” she gasps. The pulses come quicker now as I stroke her. “No. Not like this, Daniel. Please I want... I want...”
I press into her, sliding easily against her slick flesh. The feeling of her being so full and so tight is almost too much. Too perfect. I press my face into her neck so she can’t see the conflict swirling in my head—the mix of white-hot pleasure and shadowy pain. I touch her everywhere. My hands are at her back, her butt, her breasts and hips.
“You feel so good.” My words are soft and rough against her neck, as though it’s a secret for us to share. “So perfect.”
I thrust into her harder, picking up speed and chasing the pinprick of pleasure dancing behind my eyes. I let myself be lost in her. Be undone by her.
Be irrevocably marked by her.
I seat myself deep inside, all the way to the hilt, for the last time. For the very last time.
This can’t happen again.
After a moment of pure stillness, I wrap my arms around her and roll us so she’s on top, her head resting against my chest. My hands are in her hair, stroking and cradling her head. When she sighs in total and utter contentment, it’s the purest, most alive I’ve ever felt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ava
THENEXTMORNING, I stretch my arms above my head, enjoying the delicious pull in my muscles. Last night was...incredible. After we got home, we made love, showered, drank more wine on the balcony overlooking the city. We didn’t speak and yet it was the most comfortable I have ever been. Daniel keeps much of himself under lock and key but every day I see a little more. Learn a little more.
I could spendhoursin his arms. By his side. Being quiet with him.
Everything feels so right. What started as lust has blossomed into something more. Lust is like love’s two-dimensional cousin; similar on the surface, but not the same.Farfrom the same. And last night, watching him be vulnerable with my family, watching him be open and honest... It slayed me.
With him, I feel beautiful. Cherished. Appreciated.
I know I have to return to real life. In fact, I have an interview set up with one of my dream schools today thanks to him. A school that would never have looked at me before is suddenly interested in my skills and experience. If I can secure that job, then my whole life could finally click into place: the career I want with kids I can nurture and develop, a salary to afford me some more secure housing, a perfect man.
He’s perfect...until the expiration date.
Sitting in the expansive bed, I hug the crisp cotton sheet to my body. Why can’t I have it all? I let my eyes slide over to the empty space where Daniel slept last night, the sheets rumpled in a rough outline of his incredible physique. Why can’t this be real?
I deserve love. Iwantlove. And I feel things for Daniel I’ve never felt before. I’m in deeper,muchdeeper. To me...this could be love.
It could be everything.
But it won’t be anything unless I understand whether I’m in these feelings alone. I need to know. The clink of metal and porcelain downstairs draws me out of bed. I pull on my dress from the floor, smoothing my hands over the creases, and head quietly downstairs.
For a moment I stand at the bottom of the steps, quiet as a mouse so I can watch. Could our life be like this? Early mornings scented with coffee, sitting at a kitchen island together talking and making plans for our future?
But the smile on my lips falters as I look closer, because he doesn’t appear to be a man floating on a cloud. His shoulders are bunched, the muscles pressing up around his neck as he scrubs a hand along his jaw.
