Avery's fingers curl in my hair as my lips skim lower. “I don't want you to take it slow,” she says raggedly. “I want you to fuck me like you used to.”
Her words have me pausing, my lips hovering at the top of her breasts. I lift my gaze to find hers already on me. I know she’s thinking what I’m thinking, about all the times I encouraged her to speak up and say what she wanted from me when we were intimate.
Here she is now, doing what I asked of her.
The least I can do is exactly what she’s asking of me.
Avery reaches down, dipping her hand into my waistband, gripping me. I work her shirt over her head, kissing her neck while unclasping her bra. I mutter an expletive at the sight of her, and she smiles.
“I won’t last long if you keep that up,” I murmur, looking down between us. “The last time with you was the last time.”
Understanding dawns, and she slows but doesn’t let me go. “Take them off,” she instructs. “My leggings. Take them off.”
I peel them away, along with her underwear. She releases me and lies back on the table, wincing at the hard wood against her back. I shake my head. “Bedroom. We deserve a bed.” I bend over and scoop her up, and she wraps her legs around me. She is wet and warm against my stomach. Palming her backside, I lift her up an inch, down an inch, over and over. She whimpers the softest, sweetest little moans into my ear and hangs on to me.
The sound of her, my Avery, making noises I know by heart is nearly enough to finish me right then.
It takes everything I have to hold off. I manage to get her down the hall and into her bedroom, inching her up and down my midsection the entire way.
Her hair fans out around her when I lay her on the bed, and my breath sticks in my throat at the sight of her, naked and rosy-cheeked andhere.
Avery is here, with me.
“What?” she asks.
I shake my head in disbelief. “You… You're stunning. You take my breath away. That’s what you do. You always have.”
Her eyes shine. Her lips curl into a smile.
I crawl up onto the bed, kissing her, kissing my way down her body, kissing my way to the apex of her thighs.
“Gabriel,” she whispers, her hands in my hair. Every inch of this woman’s body has a place in my memory, but especially right here. This is my woman,my wife, and I know exactly how to make pleasured cries sing from her lips.
That’s what I do, until she’s squirming and twisting, and I’m smiling against her.
“Need you,” she manages to say. “Right now. Please.”
I crawl up her body. She runs her hands over my chest, my abdomen, around to my back. Her gaze locks on mine as I come over her, holding my weight with my forearm as I reach between us. She reaches with me, her hand wrapping over mine as I guide myself to her.
She gasps at that first inch, then wraps her legs around my lower back and urges me along, until there’s no part of me that isn’t inside her.
My forehead drops to hers. “Fuck,” I groan.
“I know,” she whispers. “I feel you…everywhere.”
This woman. She is a part of me, an extension, to a point where I cannot tell where I end and she begins.
Each movement, every stroke, is better than the last, and I wish I could press a pause button and linger in this moment with her.
“Come,” Avery whispers. “I know you need to.”
Supporting myself on my forearms, I wind my fingers into her hair and run my thumbs over her cheeks.
She waits until she knows I’m coming, then she captures my lips and kisses me through the crescendo.
When my orgasm ebbs, I stay where I am, dotting her face with soft kisses.
I don’t know what she’s ready to hear, so with my body I tell her I love her.
