“Yes,” Aspen croons, still coming all over me while I ride the wave of my own orgasm.
I don’t want this to end.
I don’t want to ever pull my dick out of her.
I don’t want to move.
I just want to stay here, coming so hard my eyes are permanently crossed while this fucking amazing woman collapses on top of me, panting for breath, while I’m still coming.
But the spasms in my cock fade, and soon I’m sagging deeper into the mattress too, my noodle arms barely able to pull the covers back up over us as she snuggles into my chest.
“So much better,” she murmurs.
I kiss her hair. Can’t find words.
Don’t want to.
I just want to be.
I want this to be real.
I want her to love me back.
I want this to be the beginning. Not the end.
And I’m terrified if I move wrong, say the wrong thing, then it’ll be the end.
“Better than I dreamed,” she murmurs.
My cock twitches like we didn’t just give an Olympic-worthy performance.
She’s dreamed of me.
I stroke her hair and pull her closer. She’s still splayed across me, and my half-limp dick is still partially inside of her.
And I still don’t want to move.
I’ll have to eventually. The fire will get low. We’ll need to both get cleaned up as best we can.
But not yet.
Not yet.
12
Aspen
There are no more nightmares.
I don’t sleep through the whole night, but anytime I wake up, Cash is there.
He’s cradling me from behind, or I’m sleeping with my head on his shoulder, or we’re holding hands.
If I get cold, he’s curling around me before I realize what’s wrong.
If I make a noise, he pulls me closer.
He gets up to put more wood on the fire occasionally, and eventually, I realize the room is light.
