"Is this what you need?" he asks, his eyes searching mine, even as he maintains that perfect rhythm.
"God, yes," I breathe, unable to form more coherent thoughts as pleasure quickly builds again. My oversensitized nerves sing under his touch, every circle of his thumb sending electric pulses through my body.
He watches my face intently as he moves, clearly savoring each reaction, each gasp and shudder. His control is incredible—the slow, deep thrusts never faltering even as his breathing grows more ragged.
"I want to feel you come," he says, his voice a low growl. "Come around me, Holly."
His fingers increase their pace just slightly, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.
My second orgasm is even more intense than the first. It feels like it lasts for minutes instead of seconds.
Denton's control finally shatters. His rhythm falters, his powerful body tensing above mine. With a deep, guttural groan that he muffles against my neck, he thrusts deep one final time, his entire body shuddering as he comes.
We stay locked together, trembling and breathless, our bodies slick with sweat.
Eventually, he presses a soft kiss to my lips before carefully withdrawing from me and laying down beside me.
“You were so quiet. I don’t know how you did it. I almost lost it there at the end,” he says, grinning.
“I just knew how mortified I’d be if I woke her up,” I say, almost laughing out loud.
“She’s a deep sleeper. I knew it would take a lot to wake her up.”
I cuddle up to him, laying my head on his chest, listening to his still rapid heartbeat.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while,” he says, seriousness radiating in his voice.
“What’s that?” I ask nervously.
“Sometime back, Tabby and I came into the bakery and this sleazy looking guy was leaving,” he begins. “You had a weird look on your face and when I asked about him, you said he was a salesman. Was that true?”
I swallow hard. “Not exactly.” I feel bad now about lying to him, but I couldn’t tell him the truth back then.
“His name is Tony Taviani and he’s a real estate developer. He’s trying to push me out of the space so he can put something else there. Condos maybe, I’m not sure…”
“Shit, are you worried? Will he be able to pull it off?”
“I certainly hope not but time will tell.”
“Can I do anything?” he asks, gently playing with my hair.
I ponder the question for a moment. “I don’t think so. But I’ll let you know if I think of anything. I’m really hoping the whole thing just blows over and he goes away.”
My chest feels tight as I say this. And I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s starting to ruin my perfect day.
Denton pulls me in closer. “Can you stay? I’ll set my alarm to make sure we get up before Tabby does.”
“I’d love to stay. Are you sure that’s okay though? I don’t want to cause any problems.”
“No, it’s all good. I want you next to me,” he says, setting an alarm on his watch. “She sleeps surprisingly long in the morning. We’ll probably be up way before her.”
I yawn, feeling my eyelids growing heavy. The warm contentment of the day, the incredible sex, and the emotional significance of decorating the tree have all caught up with me at once.
"You look exhausted," Denton says, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
"I am," I admit, fighting another yawn. "It's been quite a day."
He kisses my forehead and slides out of bed. "Stay here," he says, padding across the room to his dresser. He rummages through a drawer before returning with a soft t-shirt and flannel pajama pants.
