Therush of my orgasm continued to pulse through me when he didn’t remove his hand.His fingers moved slower, more deliberately, not allowing me to let go of thefeeling completely.
WhenI was finally able to open my eyes, I found him hovering over me. He was afallen angel like this, something more than human… more than mortal. Dark andso intense and strained with need.
“Thatwas the most beautiful thing I have ever fucking seen,” he rasped, his voicecompletely raw.
Iblinked at him, feeling the exact same way about him. Lifting my head so Icould kiss him. “I need you, chef. Now.”
Hehad to exert some effort to reach his nightstand where a condom was tucked intothe drawer. That was the amazing thing about king beds. There was so much room.But I had to laugh at how he was forced to scramble over me, not missing theopportunity to smack his ass when he took too long.
Bythe time he’d stripped off his pants and settled over me again, I wasbreathless and tingling with anticipation.
“You’remy biggest weakness, Kaya” he whispered as he lined up his hot, hard, perfectbody intimately against mine. My thighs cradled his waist and I felt himeverywhere. Over me and against me, and in one, slow, mind-blowing thrust,inside me. “And my greatest ally.” He peppered kisses along my jaw andcollarbone, slowly sliding in and out of my body as I struggled to comprehendwhat he was saying and the English language in general. “You’re my biggestchallenge, my biggest problem. But mostly, you’re my salvation. From thekitchen. And from myself.” He paused over me and cradled my face with his hand.“I love you.”
Tearswet my eyes. Since when had sex turned into this life-altering, incrediblybeautiful experience? It had never been like this for me. It had never beensoul deep and breath-stealing—a complete and utter connection on every singlelevel—before. But that was always how Wyatt was. He defied every norm I had. Hebroke every rule and exceeded every expectation. He was and had been and wouldalways be my exception.
AndI loved him for it.
Iloved him too.
Histhumb brushed over my cheek and I realized it was wet. He caught a tear that I hadshed. Oh my God! I was crying during sex! He’d actually broken me.
Butinstead of embarrassment, I was overcome with joy. Wyatt loved me.
“Ilove you too,” I whispered to him, barely able to speak through the lump in mythroat. “I think I’ve loved you for a while now.”
“Good,”he said with a blinding smile that made my heart flip flop inside my chest. Andthen he moved. And didn’t stop moving.
Weclung together in a sweaty, tangled mess until we were both panting anddesperate and taut with desire. He pushed me over the edge, sending me into adizzying, blinding whirlwind of electric sensation. And then he followed me,groaning my name and another I love you in such a way that I knew I would neverbe the same, that this was the moment that changed me forever and ever amen.
Hishead landed on my heart as we both came down from life-altering orgasms thatwere about five years in the making.
“Knewit would be that good.” His words rumbled against my skin.
Ilaughed, but it was breathy and weak, like my entire body. “The question is,would you still love me if I was bad at sex.”
Hishead lifted, and he grinned at me. “Who said you were good at it?”
Islapped his arm and glared at him.
Settlingin against my side, he slid his bicep under my head and pulled me against him.“Kaya, I would of course, still love you if you were bad at sex. I’d just makeyou practice a lot. You know, so you could get better. I don’t want you to bedeficient in any area. I’m nice like that.” His fingers brushed over my stomachin a hypnotically soothing kind of way. “Now that I’m thinking about it though,there were actually several things you could improve. We should probably spenda significant amount of time working in that area. Practice makes perfect andall that.”
Iopened my mouth to say something about how he could just be celibate for therest of his life, but a dinging in the kitchen interrupted my thoughts.
“Whatis that?”
“Thequiche!” He hopped up so quickly, my head bounced back on the pillows. Hejumped out of bed completely naked and I had the immense pleasure of watchinghim sprint from the room—with the perfect view of his muscled, bare ass. “Don’tmove!” he shouted at me.
Mysweat had started to cool, so I slid beneath his comforter and pulled it to mychin. Five minutes later, I hadn’t moved. Instead, I found myself smiling at mylap while my fingers traced circles in the blanket.
I’dagreed to a date with Wyatt, but what I’d actually gotten was sex, love, and arelationship. A seriously committed relationship.
AndI couldn’t have been happier.
Whenhe came back, carrying two plates that smelled like heaven and looked likepieces of priceless art, I’d decided that this was what “making it” must feellike, finally reaching all my goals and aspirations. This was what living thedream felt like.
Forso long I had been obsessed with my career and getting to the next level andcreating a legacy for myself that I hadn’t even noticed what my life had beenlacking. Yes, my career was important. And yes, I would continue to work ashard as it took to get the things I wanted. But this was what life wasabout—relationships. And doing them well.
Ialmost had my career goals within my grasp, but without Wyatt I would have beenlonely and hung-up on the past. I would have existed but my insides would’vebeen empty.
