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“Please, Dylan. Please let me come,” she begs.
“Have you been a good girl?”
“Yes,” she mumbles as she averts her gaze.
I grip her chin with my hand so she’s forced to look at me. “Look at me when you come.”
I give her clit a pinch, sending her careening into her release.
While she’s high off euphoric bliss, I toss the vibrator on the bed and remove my glasses, setting them on the nightstand. Within seconds, I’m back on top of her, taking hold of my shaft, guiding it inside her perfect pussy inch by glorious inch. Her cunt clenches around me, and she winds her hands through my hair to pull me closer.
“Oh,” Marlow gasps.
“That’s it. Take it, take the whole damn thing.” Once I’m fully seated, I pause to give her a moment to adjust. “You’re so fucking tight,” I grit out, my voice strained.
I grip her waist as I move in a steady rhythm, and she eagerly meets me, thrust for thrust. God, this woman has me completely under her spell, and I’m basking in the gratification of being claimed by her.
“Oh, yes,” she cries out.
I look down to where our bodies join. “Damn, look at you taking my cock like such a good girl.”
I lean down and kiss along the edge of her jaw. Her breathing picks up as I seal my mouth over hers in a possessive kiss. My tongue dances along the seam of her lips, groaning when she opens her mouth, letting me in.
She moans as I pick up my pace, bucking her hips in time with mine.
“Holy shit,” I call out as she clings to me. “You almost there, sunshine?”
“Yes,” she mewls.
I reach down and roll her clit with my thumb and forefinger, and soon we’re both barreling toward release. I roar as uninhibited pleasure surges through me at the beautiful sight of Marlow unraveling. I hold her tight as we ride out our orgasms together.
“Fuck, that was incredible.” I nuzzle my nose into her neck, inhaling her scent—a combination of citrus and rose—as I ease out of her, not wanting to cause her any pain. I stifle another groan as I watch our mixed cum drip onto her thigh.
I collapse onto the bed next to her and draw her into my embrace. Silence lingers between us as we lie wrapped in each other’s arms.
For the first time in a long time, I’m truly content. The internal noise inside my head is quiet, and I’m not concerned about sticking to a schedule, cleaning my house, or checking my work email. Marlow is teaching me by example how to live in the moment, and I’m grateful for it.
I’m falling hard for this woman, and I push back the nagging worry that if she leaves, Lola won’t be the only one who’s heartbroken.
Marlow’s stomach rumbles, and I laugh.
“Someone must be hungry. How do you feel about street tacos?”
“I’m a fan,” Marlow says.
“Excellent. Let’s get cleaned up, and then we’ll go over to my place. I’ll make you dinner.” I pause briefly. “Waffles can come over too.”
“Really?” Her eyes widen in surprise.
“Yeah. Lola will want to see him when she gets back. This way, we can save ourselves a trip back here to come get him.”
I want Marlow to spend more time at my place, and the easiest way to make that happen is to let Waffles come over too. It’s a compromise I’m willing to make for Marlow’s sake, but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed on the furniture, especially my memory foam pillow.
27
MARLOW
I LOOK UP AT THE Stafford’s charming two-story Cape-style house. It has a wraparound porch with a swing, similar to mine, and a bright red door. The sidewalk has been cleared of snow from the storm we had last night, and ice crystals are clinging to the trees surrounding the property.
