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Although the hunger and heat were out of his eyes, the emotion that replaced those—was so strong, that I could feel it running through my veins.
“I love you, Giselle,” Stefan murmured into my ear. He lay me back on the bed and then covered my body with his.
“I love you, too, honey,” I whispered and let my fingers trail over his back—softly.
Sweetly.
Unhurried.
As if we had all the time in the world.
“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” His warm breath floated over my neck as he placed tender, loving kisses there. I shivered and savored his attentions.
His hardness was difficult to ignore, lying on my stomach. My hand found it and I caressed him gently, feeling his perfect, veiny length.
We kissed for what felt like forever. Gosh, kissing Stefan was one of my favorite things in the world to do. He took such care and time building up a good kiss. Until you thought for sure you’d come on the spot—just from his kiss alone.
Part of it was definitely how into it he seemed. Like he wanted to completely devour me and wouldn’t stop until he’d done just that.
But he also coaxed me along, encouraging and teasing at the same time. It was wonderful.
When he finally lined himself up, I was more than ready.
No.
I was dripping wet for him.
He didn’t instantly shove himself inside of me.
No.
He slowly eased himself in—inch by inch.
Oh, God.
He was making love to me.
My eyes began to tear up as he started his slow, smooth pace.
Stefan was in no hurry.
No.
He wanted to take his time. And demonstrate how much he loved me.
His movements, his kisses, his touches.
Everything Stefan did told me more than his words ever would.
He loved me.
He loved everything about me.
He could fuck me.
Hard.
He could eat me out like a demon possessed.
