She reaches around the back of my neck and pulls my head down for a kiss. It’s a long kiss, a lingering, soulful one, and by the time it ends, both of us are breathing hard and trembling.
Looking into her eyes, I say in a husky voice, “I only want to make you feel good. Whatever you need, ask for it. If I do something you don’t like, tell me. Let’s pretend we’ve loved each other all our lives and nothing we say or do could ever change that. Let’s pretend, just for tonight, just with each other, that we’re where we’ve always belonged.”
Her eyes well with water. Her voice strangled, she says, “If you keep talking like that, you’ll be having sex with a sobbing mess.”
I swipe a finger under her eye, capturing a lone tear. Then I kiss her nose and smile at her. “A sobbing mess with the most beautiful ass I’ve ever seen. Time to ride me, baby.”
She lets out a little scream when I roll onto my back and take her with me. I manhandle her into position and issue a warning. “Watching you bounce up and down on my dick is probably gonna put me over the edge pretty quick, so if there’s anything you need me to do to get you there with me, let me know.”
She laughs. I love the way her eyes light up when she laughs. Her whole body lights up from within.
This woman is magic.
She props her hands on my chest, which is good because it distracts me from the ache inside it. She leans down and kisses me. Against my mouth, she whispers, “Okay, cowboy. Giddyup.”
She arches back, giving me a beautiful view of her body. Full tits, soft belly, curved hips. Dark hair flowing around gleaming shoulders. Then she curls her hand around my dick and guides me inside her with a wicked grin.
And I want to kill her ex all over again.
The audacity of that prick. Hurting her. An angel with a sensitive soul, a smart mouth, and a dirty mind. I should rip that selfish idiot’s arms and legs from his body, throw him off the Santa Monica Pier, and wave at him while I watch him sink into the Pacific.
Picturing it, I smile.
“My, my, now that’s a devilish grin.”
“You want devilish? Hang onto your hat, sweetheart, cause here we go.”
I grip her hips in my hands and thrust up into her wet heat again and again, watching those gorgeous tits bounce every time our bodies meet. She shakes her hair off her shoulders and makes the single most sexy, feminine noise I’ve ever heard, a laughing little gasp of pleasure that pulls an answering growl from my throat.
She’s soon moaning. Sinking her nails into my skin. Begging me to go faster, harder, deeper, to give her everything I’ve got.
“You first, baby.” I press my thumb against her clit and stroke it up and down.
It might be the broken cry of ecstasy that leaves her lips that pushes me over the edge. It might be the way her thighs clench around my body. It might be the way she arches back and squeezes her own breasts, pinching her hard nipples.
Or it might be that I’ve caught a glimpse of how my life could be if only I were a different man.
A better man.
A man who deserves a woman like this.
Whatever the cause, my orgasm crashes into me so fast and hard, it steals my breath. I lie beneath her, convulsing with pleasure, my fingers sunk into her sweet flesh, staring up at this beautiful stranger who’s given me a memory I already know I’ll return to over and over for the rest of my life.
Yeah, sex is great. But connection? Real connection?
It’s so valuable and rare, some people would kill for it.
A fact I’m all too familiar with.
