He presses his lips just below my ear. Softly. Gently. Like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. He trails down my neck, and I melt.
Heaven help me, I can’t fight him or this desire pulsing between us anymore.
“Will you stay the night?” he asks.
I nod, unable to form the words even as my lips find his.
Our next kiss is like an explosion. My hands slide up and around his neck. His hand moves down to cup my ass, pulling me to him again. My body melts against him.
He’s so hard. Rock hard. His need for me every bit as strong as mine.
He presses my back against the wall, and his other hand roves up my thigh leaving goosebumps in its wake. His thumb slides under the satin of my panties and finds me. I am already wet for him. I instinctively move against him, sighing.
He pulls back suddenly. My eyes fly open as I slide down his body.
I can’t wait any longer. I tear my mouth away from him
“I need you inside of me. Now.”
My hands move down, reaching for the button of his pants. I pull out his hard length, massaging him with my hand as he groans.
“Wait,” he says. “I need a condom.”
“I’m on birth control. And I’m clean and good to go.”
Our gazes lock. There’s a trust between us. One that wouldn’t happen if either of us was doing this with a stranger or even someone we’d only recently meant.
We have a lifetime of trust between us. And we trust each other now.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
I nod. He nods. “Same here.”
With one swift yank, he rips my panties aside. I gasp in excitement, and he lifts me on top of the counter, and slams into me.
I cry out, wrapping my legs around him as my body molds around his thick cock. “Oh, God.”
“You feel fucking incredible” His breath tickles my neck, sending fresh shivers down my spine.
Then he moves, pumping in and out, faster and faster.
I tighten my legs around him, urging him to move faster. With one arm, he braces himself so he can hit my G-spot from the perfect angle.
The other cups my breast, pinching my nipple and sending dueling jolts of pleasure radiating throughout my body.
Just as I am not sure I can take it anymore, that building pleasure has no choice but to explode.
He pushes in once more, shouting my name as he fills me once more, releasing himself inside of me.
Somehow, somewhere between fairy lights and deadlines, I’ve fallen for my childhood best friend—the one who builds dreams out of wood and wire and believes in enchanted forests.
And for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t feel like a story I’m writing.
I’m living it.
SEVEN
DYLAN
