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I know then that this means as much to her as it does to me.
When she picks up speed, her counter-thrusts turning frantic and messy, she lets out a tiny mewling sound.
Close.
So fucking close.
I have to clench every muscle in my body to hold back as her pussy grips my cock.
“I know, sweetheart,” I whisper, holding her close, shrugging off my shirt so we’re skin to skin. “Let fucking go. Come for me, Dess.”
With both hands, I squeeze her ass, guiding her movements, dragging her over the finish line.
There, there.
Fuck, there.
She tightens around me again right before the white-hot ecstasy consumes her.
“Fuck!” I bury her lips under mine again as she goes off like a cherry bomb.
I swallow every breathless moan spilling out of her as her pussy tries to rob my soul, giving back punishing thrusts that drive her higher,higher.
There’s no sweeter sight than driving this woman stark raving mad with pleasure.
“I love you,” she pants when she can finally speak again.
That’s all it takes for both of us.
She clenches again, the sound she makes ripped straight from her heart, and then I fall the fuck apart.
My balls rip lighting up my spine, and soon I’m one long human current, pure magma that only exists to fill her.
Every part of me, hers.
Body and soul and mind.
She has my all, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We come together just as she goes off again, so intense I forget how to breathe.
At first, I was amazed at how the energy between us never diminishes no matter how many times we do this. I thought it was a law of human nature.
Now, I know it’s going to be like this for the rest of our lives.
She said it herself.
But it’s about time I did something about it, I think, coming down from my high with my cock still rooted deep inside her.
And not just because I don’t want any shit from Cole if I beat around the metaphorical bush for too long. He’s not the type who’ll take kindly to any man stringing his daughter along.
I told myself marriage wasn’t something I’d ever do again. Not after my last one ended in a catastrophic heart-fuck.
Yet as Dess brushes her messy blonde hair out of her eyes and smiles down at me like paradise, how the hell can I ever do anything else?
“I think loving you might be a health hazard,” she whispers.
I’m still inside her, but she doesn’t seem to want to move.
