Who am I with this man?
A woman finding herself. That’s who I am.
He gives a firm, heavier slap to my skin and then rubs the oil in. I’m dripping wet, and I want him to see just how much he turns me on, so I arch my back with my butt in the air, taunting him. I want it all.
“Fuck.” He devours me from behind, and it feels amazing. My body is shaking, and I can’t take much more. “This might hurt, but once we get the angle right, you’re going to want it this way every time.”
I can’t breathe. I’m caught between pain and euphoricbliss as he pushes in at a snail’s pace. The whole time, he caresses my butt and lower back with one hand and holds my hip with the other. He’s not all the way in because our skin isn’t touching. It feels like a two-by-four between my legs. So why does it feel so good?
Because Matt Stricker is the love of my life. Pain or pleasure. Happy or sad. We belong together.
Matt sinks deeper inside me. His passionate urging rattles me to the bone. I want more, but I feel like I’m popping stitches where I don’t have any.
“You fucking feel amazing. Relax. Spread your wings.” He wraps my hair around his fist, tugging my head back as he is fully seated inside me. He feels larger than he’s ever been. The width is almost too much as he plunges into me. I’m filled with his body and his love.
My lips quiver and my legs quake as he fucks me into oblivion and then tops it off by pressing his finger against mydo not touch hole.
Not inside. Just pressure.
How can this feel so intimate when I can’t even see his face? Then I learn what happens when you block both release points—an eruption. White-hot awareness shatters through me. My vision explodes into a galaxy of shooting stars, bright colors, and then peace. My body slacks a little, but he’s not finished.
Matt puts his strong forearm underneath my gently formed belly, holding my ass and belly up, stretching out over my back and making long, lustful strokes. Loving me with purpose.
I don’t know if it’s my sweaty hair sticking to my face or Matt’s body sliding on mine, but it’s all-consuming. He makes sure I have another orgasm, and how could I not whenhe whispers how much he loves me, my body, and our baby while making me feel like the only woman alive?
“Yes, yes. Please. I never want this to end.”
His body goes rigid, but he keeps pumping his cock, his fingers attentive to my swollen clit, trying to make it last. Then he pulls out, an erotic growl coming from his mouth, spurting hishappy juiceall over my back, mixing with the oil.
Matt covers my body with his while keeping my belly slightly off the floor, his chest on my shoulder blades. With his mouth on my shoulder, he mumbles, almost inaudibly, “Me either.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
MATT
She’s warm against me, all soft curves and quiet breathing, her hair fanned across my arm like she belongs there.
Because she does.
I lie still, afraid to move, afraid to break whatever spell has settled over us in the dark hush of morning. My hand rests on her back, just above the gentle swell that wasn’t there before. Every time I let myself think about that—about the life growing inside her—something tightens in my chest in a way that hurts and heals at the same time.
I want this.
I want her.
I want the baby.
I want the messy, ordinary future I never thought I was allowed to imagine.
For a moment, darkness and doubt creep in. How can I have this? Or better yet, how long can I have this? I’ll take whatever Noelle will give me, but I’m a selfish man. I decide. If I feel decent, I’ll be here. I can take the pain.
My body aches, the familiar deep soreness hummingbeneath my skin, but today is a day off from dialysis. A small mercy. I don’t have to be at the stadium until noon—just a meeting, then practice. The world is giving me a few stolen hours of pretending everything is normal.
Or too much time to think.
Her alarm goes off, soft but insistent. She groans and burrows closer to me, nestling in until she finds a perfect spot. She’s so damn cute and sexy at the same time.
“Do you feel better after last night?” she asks sleepily.
