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The first time is fast. My strokes make his body shake, his gaze in awe and prisoner to mine.
“God, Cade. Don’t stop. Fuuuccckk.”
He keeps my fist pumping, his lips trembling, and he’s all mine and vulnerable in my tight grip. He doesn’t grunt the first time. He just comes over my hand with creamy ropes over his belly and sweet relief all over his face.
It’s so beautiful.
He barely goes soft before he wants me like that again. Like he can’t get enough.
The second time he trusts me more. He lets go of my hand and lets me indulge him. He lasts longer, writhing and moaning, thrusting into my grasp, into my tight twist over his tip, and my long wrap pumping down to his base.
“Oh fuck, Cade!”
He keeps swearing it and getting him off gets me so wet. He’s taking longer and fucking my fist like I need him to fuck me with those incredible hips, strong and hard and banging into my grip. His hand cups my breast, palming its weight while his gaze holds mine.
“You’re gonna make me come again,” he huffs. “Shit, you feel so good.”
His groan is so loud, his thighs shaking while he spills his cum over us.
The third time is an hour later. With my body pressed against his, feeling my ragged breath on his chest, my hand gripping him hard, he knows what I need too—his hand between my thighs.
And we do it.
At twenty-eight, we could do more at all that we’ve already shared, but we don’t need to. Not tonight.
It’s our touch, our bodies finally together, and we only need each other to be safe and sighing the other’s name.
By early morning, we’re a sticky mess on my white leather sofa, and don’t care. The sun will be up soon, and so will our second chance together.
“Should we shower?” He won’t stop kissing me.
“Not yet.” I don’t ever want him to leave. Not one part.
“We’re covered in my dry cum.” He’s not shy about it, grinning, “And yours and it’s hot as hell.”
“Yes, and I only want more of you.”
He rolls on top of me, gazing down like he’s finally home.
“I only do it with you,” he confesses. “I can only come for you.”
And suddenly… I believe him. How with all those women, it wasn’t him. Just his shell. His body barely reacting on instinct.
But with us, it’s always more. We couldn’t be more alive than when we’re together.
He kisses my forehead. “Can we sleep in your bed?”
Fear shoots through me. “No man has ever slept in my bed. I’ve never fallen asleep with another either.”
He knows why.
“Makes me still special then.” He kisses my hair softly. “Like old times. We’ll fall asleep all messy and on the couch together.”
I turn and pull a throw blanket over us before he hugs my back to his chest. We settle into each other, into our love still clinging to our skin, and I don’t want to be anyplace else.
“Thank you, Candy Cade.” His voice gets so deep when he’s tired.
“For what?” And I get so soft in his arms.
