“Raw,” I pant. “Nothing between us.”
His hands grip me tighter, his pulse thudding against mine—steady, certain, alive. “Nothing between us ever again, then.” He reaches down, slides out of his boxers, and my heart lodges in my throat.
The words feel more than right. They anchor me. For once, someone wants tobelongto me—not escape or run at the first hint of commitment.
“Too far?” he asks.
“Not far enough,” I whimper as his hands slide my panties to the side, fingers running through my slick need. He exhales a low, rough sound that hits me everywhere. “You want me,Sunshine. Don’t you?” Not egotistical or overconfident, but the words of a scarred and hurt man asking for reassurance.
“Yes, Denver. So much. Please make me yours.”
His thumb rounds my clit, drawing a weighty moan. “Oh God, yes,” I pant. Outside, I smell the metallic scent of rain, soft pattering starting again.
“Yes?” he says like a man finding his bearings. Remembering.
“Yes, please.”
He slides into me slowly with his other hand, finger curling back towards him, hitting my G-spot perfectly. I arch my hips towards him, gasping. A couple more strokes, and he’ll have me there. No man has ever turned me on like this before—or known exactly what to do about it. His thumb circles my clit until I see stars, floating free. His face dips, mouth latching onto one of my nipples through the flannel.
“Fucking shirt,” he mutters. “Need to taste you.” My fingers fumble with the buttons, too wrecked by his expert fingers to think or act. But I get enough undone that his mouth can sink down enthusiastically over me, sucking, teasing, and lightly biting one nipple before going to the other.
“You taste so good. Feel so right in my mouth like you were made for me.”
His expert fingers stroke me, and I exhale sharply, knowing I was.
“Yes!” I scream, surrendering to the gruff man’s touch, warm gush, and shaking body, coming harder than I ever have.
He works me through it, doesn’t stop until I’m jointless pleasure, beaming at him. He brings his hands up, licks them clean with a deep growl of pleasure. It sears through me, an act of pure devotion.
“My new favorite treat,” he whispers with a lopsided grin.
“Better than Mexican hot chocolate?” I ask, arching a brow.
He nods. “Spicier, too.” He grunts, grabbing my neck and pulling me into him for another long, breathless kiss. “Tell me what you crave, Sunshine. There’s nothing I won’t give you.”
His voice is honest, authentic, nothing to doubt, nothing to fear. His heart hums beneath my palm, beating out the echo of his words, cheeks flushed, eyes simmering.
“I need all of you,” I whisper against the shell of his ear, tracing it with my tongue, savoring the way he shivers when I tease his earlobe, biting and sucking.
His hands grip my hips as he slides into me inch by inch. Too thick, too long, absolute perfection. His sigh shudders, and he turns his head to the side, taking a meditative breath.
I moan against the stretch, feeling complete in ways I never have before. His naked flesh against mine, where a thousand sparks continue to ignite, sets the sliver of air between our bodies on fire.
He pulls back, slides again, slowly, sensually, from tip to balls until I can’t think, I can’t speak. Giving, taking, then giving again. All heat and strength and muscles rippling as he brings me to the edge again, walking the knife point of self-control.
“God, Dahlia, your pussy feels like wet silk. The only place I want to be.”
And his cock? Pressed inside and driving over my G-spot again and again, it’s a decadent sin and a portal to heaven. His big, calloused hands grip my hips, squeezing tight as he pulls back and slams into me again, speed picking up, demand rocking through his hips. I moan and scream, floating and free-falling all at once. Lost in his thrusts and the way he makes me whole.
Desire builds to a crest. Rising, rising, rising until I can’t take anymore. Breath coming too fast, body quivering too much, unintelligible sounds offered into the still night as my pussy grips him, spasming, shaking, riding ecstasy.
“Oh, God, Dahlia,” he groans as he draws closer, hips thrusting, body quaking. I fracture around him first, unraveling. A warm gush, and then he follows behind, coming into me hard, filling me with wave after wave of heat as his body shivers.
Our panting breaths fill the room, accompanying the crackle of the fire. His body shivers against mine, toned arms drawing me into the kind of embrace I need forever.
Silence settles. Not weighty or awkward but reverent, sacred. Beyond words, beyond separation, somewhere in the space where Denver and I are one.
His hands find my hair, stroke my locks as he whispers, “Don’t know how to make this work with you. But can’t let you go.”
