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She’s more than willing and reaches forward to grab the condom from me. I lift enough to help her get closer. To say she’s ready is an understatement. . . She sighs in discontent when my hand leaves her body as I position myself above her.

I use my knee to spread her legs and settle against her, pressing my dick to her entrance. Foreplay wasn’t needed to get us to this point. We’ve been building toward this for days. That doesn’t take away the fact that looking down at her fantastic fucking tits and that dip from her waist to her hips, I know I’m not going to last.

She’s a goddess in need of a good fucking, and I’m just the mortal tasked with the job. Like work, I take this very seriously. “You better hold on, sweetheart. This isn’t going to be gentle.”

Raising her hand over her head, she presses them to the headboard. “I think I can handle you.”

With my elbows planted on either side of her head, I kiss her sweetly one last time. “Famous last words.” I thrust in, filling her to the hilt in one hard push.

Her eyes are closed when she cries out, “Oh God.” But when her nails dig into my shoulders, she looks at me and encourages. “You feel amazing.”

Dropping her arms around me, she holds on as I pull back out and push in again. Who needs clear thinking when ecstasy has consumed your body?

I wrap my body over hers, thrusting and kissing. The sound of fucking . . . no, it’s love-making. She meets me push for pull and pull for push until we’re each chasing our own release and thrusting against each other.

Sliding my hands under her ass, I take a firm grasp and angle her up just as I get to my knees and start fucking like we won’t get another chance.

“Loch,” she breathes, her arms wide by her sides as she fists the sheet beneath her. I thrust, tasting what heaven feels like, and then give her a reprieve before pushing in again and again. Her breathing is erratic, her body moving just as freely as I push harder and faster when she demands.

Her chin tilts to the ceiling, and she finally catches her release, tremoring around me and causing mine to entangle with hers. I push, still pushing even when I’m buried as deep as I can be inside her until her body eases and I’ve given everything I can to her.

I lower her back down but stay buried inside her, collapsing until my head is beside her, and I can lick the sweat from her neck. “You are fucking spectacular.”

She abandons her laughter when she sucks in a harsh breath and pushes me off her. “I can’t breathe, Loch.” I’m still given a smile, this one more languid, less about happiness and filled more with satisfaction.

“Sorry.” I place a kiss on her shoulder and roll onto my back. Trying to catch my breath, I close my eyes and just lie in my contentment. This is the life—good, pure, exhaustingly profound between the sheets. I’m starting to believe that magic exists. How else could the connection between us be explained if not through supernatural forces?

Our hands touch, but it’s not enough. I turn hers over and hold it, wrapping my fingers around her, and then we weave them together in an embrace.

The room never had the lights on, the city providing enough light from the outside, but when I look at her now, her eyes shine as if I put the stars and moon in them. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replies.

“How are you doing?”

“So good. You?”

I look back at the ceiling, trying to find the words to explain how I feel inside because there’s too much all at once. She runs the tip of her finger over my chest and then doodles a heart. Holding that hand just where it is, I finally know how I feel about her. It’s too soon for three words, but I remember one. “Apricity.”

“What does that mean?” she whispers.

“The warmth of the sun in winter. That’s what you are to me.”

“That’s beautiful.”

“Like you.”

My whole body relaxes, and my mind follows quickly behind. I could sleep, but then she says, “Guess I don’t need to worry anymore about being a virgin or not.”

I bolt upright and stare down at her. “What?”

Curling onto her side, she acts innocent. She’s not. “What?” She grins like the cat who ate the canary.

“You’re a virgin?”

“Not anymore.”

“Fuck.” I drop back on the pillow as another blow of guilt sideswipes me. “I wasn’t even thinking about that. I fucked up.”

“And down, if we’re getting technical.”

I shoot her a glare, but it’s hard to be mad at her for making light of her own situation. “You’re not upset?”

“Upset?” As if the idea is unfathomable, she laughs. “First of all, I don’t even know. How messed up is that? Second, why would I be upset? You just made love to me.”

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