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He held my pelvis down with his free hand, making sure I rode the orgasm to its finish. As I crashed from the intensity, Rylan sat up and licked his fingers, his eyes on me as he made his way up my body casting small kisses along my bare skin.
“I want to worship you. You have no idea what you do to me.” His thigh separated my legs, and he nestled there, the tip of his cock pushing past my opening.
“Please, Rylan.”
“You know I can’t handle it when you beg.”
“Bullshit.” I wiggled under him, and he laughed, thrusting into me instantly.
My body lit up from the inside and my arms clung to him. He pumped into me over and over, unrelenting in his desperation to claim me. I dug my nails into his shoulder blades, scratching him.
“Fuck!” he shouted, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my breasts. “Goddamn, you feel too good.” His arms moved under my shoulders and around while he thrust and hit that spot—the gold mine he knew was there, waiting to be pillaged.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I warned, barely hanging on.
* * *
Sweat diopped from his forehead onto my face. The salty taste was familiar from when we’d go at it after working out.
“Never. Never. Never.”
I could tell he was getting closer, and he drew it out, circling his hips and drilling me again so that it pushed me over the edge.
“Ry!” I screamed.
His heavy breathing echoed in my ear, and he growled as he pumped slower into me until his cock pulsed, spilling his release inside me.
Tears threatened to fall, but I sucked them back as hard as I could.
He collapsed on me. When he regained his breathing, he inched up on his elbow and slid a piece of my hair behind my ear. “You’re gorgeous.”
We both knew this changed nothing, but neither of us wanted this to end, so we stayed where we were, soaking up the feeling of being together again until he grew soft inside me. Afterward, we cleaned up and got dressed.
“I always did hate seeing you get dressed again,” he said, zipping up his pants and reaching for his T-shirt.
“All good things must come to an end.” I smiled and meant it as a joke, but he didn’t smile back.
He sat on the bed as I put on my shirt. When I was finished, he took my hands, and I reminded myself that I needed to remain strong. Nothing had changed. He was going back to Chicago.
I pulled my hand from his and placed my finger on his lips, shaking my head. “It was nice. Let’s just leave it at that.”
He looked crestfallen, and I wanted to take my words back, but I couldn’t.
“Thank you for the flowers. In hindsight, I wish I would’ve just enjoyed them.”
“I wanted to make you smile.”
I ran my hands down his stubbly cheek since it seemed he’d taken a break from shaving. “You never understood my love for that flower. They made me smile because you gave them to me. Because you were thinking of me when you bought them.”
“They don’t make you smile anymore?”
I could’ve lied. I should’ve lied. But I could never lie to Rylan. “No, they do.”
“Good.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and we stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like forever.
Finally, I worked up the courage to say, “You should go.”
He nodded and placed one last gentle kiss on my lips. “Merry Christmas, Calista.” His voice held so much more emotion than a few days earlier.
