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“Dylan, you’re in your thirties and work at least eighty hours a week. Yet you’ve somehow maintained the body of a superhero. It’s so unfair.” I sigh. It probably helps that he avoids junk food like the plague.
He furrows his brow. “Hold on, did you just call me old?”
“Compared to me you are,” I quip.
“We’ll see who has the better stamina, won’t we?” He winks.
I can’t wait.
Dylan climbs onto the bed and hovers over me. He grabs hold of his shaft, lining himself up with my entrance, pushing to the hilt in a single thrust. Our intermingled groans fill the room as I adjust to his size.
“You okay, sunshine?” He restrains himself, waiting for my answer.
I can feel every glorious inch of him and it has me craving more.
“Move, please move,” I beg.
He intertwines our fingers, spreading my arms above me as he moves in a steady rhythm. I meet him thrust for thrust, basking in our connection. He has the ability to make me feel both cherished and seductive simultaneously.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he growls as he drives into me.
“Oh god, Dylan.”
“I can feel you clenching around my cock,” he pants out.
I can only whimper in reply, digging my heels into the mattress. He brushes his tongue against my lips before slipping it inside my mouth. I moan loudly as he picks up his pace, shifting the angle of his cock, pressing against my G-spot, and I gasp at the new sensation.
“I’m so close,” I say.
“Play with your clit like my good girl.” He drops his head against my shoulder, putting all his energy into driving himself deeper.
I obey, reaching between my legs and strumming my clit eagerly. The added simulation has me shuddering as I unravel beneath him, and he roars in triumph as he finishes alongside me. There’s no stopping the flood of emotions that washes over us as we come down from our heightened state of pleasure.
“You’re perfect, sunshine,” he croons, brushing a stray piece of hair from my face. “You okay?”
“Never been better,” I assure him with a sated smile.
“Why don’t we take a shower, and then I’ll give you a massage?”
“That sounds nice,” I say drowsily.
I’m grateful for Dylan’s caregiving nature and his enthusiasm to look after me. Now I just need to convince him that includes another round in the shower.
24
DYLAN
I WAKE TO THE FAINT scent of citrus and rose.
The first rays of sunlight filter through the window, signaling morning has arrived.
Marlow and I are entangled in a mess of limbs—she’s draped across my chest, her legs intertwined with mine, and her head nestled in the crook of my neck.
We had sex in the shower last night—twice. Afterward, I gave her a massage like I promised. That led to fucking on the bed doggy style, with her hair gripped firmly in my fist, her head arched back to face me as I drove into her from behind. She drives me wild when I’m buried deep inside her perfect cunt.
When we both finally collapsed from exhaustion, I drew her to my side, falling asleep with her securely in my arms. One night with Marlow has left me greedy for more, which isn’t like me.
After Maddie left, I blocked out the emotional side of intimacy. She shattered my trust, and I refused to give anyone else that kind of leverage over me.
