I slide in a little farther, moving carefully, deliberately. I start to move, slow and controlled, my eyes locked on Vanessa’s as I read every breath, every reaction, making sure she’s right there with me.
Normally, I don’t think. I just act.
This time, I want to feel it. I want to remember every second. I start to pick up the pace, moving in and out of her, feeling my cock grow harder with every thrust. She moans louder. I want her screaming my name, telling me she’s mine, but I’ll wait for that. I want to hear it when she’s ready.
The faster I move, the harder it is to hold back. As the pressure builds, I drive into her harder, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. When my release crashes over me, I kiss her fiercely and let go of her wrists.
I pull out slowly, already craving her warmth. I strip off the condom and toss it in the trash.
I pull the covers back and wait for her to slide in. Once she settles, I move in beside her. Vanessa glances at me, uncertain.
“What?” I ask.
“I didn’t think you were staying,” she says quietly. “I thought you’d want to go back to your room.”
I turn toward her. “Is that what you want?”
“Not particularly.”
“Good. Then I’m staying in here tonight.”
She kicks the covers back, and I pull her against me. I fall asleep with a beautiful woman in my arms for the first time—and I already know it won’t be the last.
FIFTEEN
VANESSA
I don’t usually sleep at night anymore. But tonight, after some of the best sex of my life, I actually get a few solid hours. I wake to Mateo’s warmth beside me, his arm still draped over my waist.
If someone told me a week ago this is where I’d be, and what I would be doing, I would’ve laughed in their face. If sex feels like this every time, I might be doing it a lot more often. Lying here next to him stirs something inside me I haven’t felt before.
I catch a hint of sunrise through the window, check my phone, and realize it’s nearly seven. That’s when I decide to get out of bed.
I grab the first thing that feels like a shirt and pull it on. It takes a moment to realize it’s Mateo’s. The scent of his cologne and fresh pine wraps around me. I pause, breathing it in.
I head into the living room and turn the TV on low, just enough for background noise. Quietly, I open different cabinets to find what I’m looking for. I find coffee grounds and some pans.
I start the coffee, then heat a pan on the stove. Opening thefridge, I spot eggs and grab them. I add some butter to the pan and start cooking.
Warm hands slide around my waist, and a soft kiss lands at the back of my head.
A groggy voice murmurs in my ear. “If I’d known you were going to make breakfast, I would’ve done more last night.”
A smile spreads across my face. “Well, don’t expect anything impressive. I’m not a very good cook.”
“I don’t care. I’ve never had someone make me breakfast before.”
I turn slightly. “Seriously?”
“I mean, as an adult. My mom made me breakfast when I was a kid.” He places a soft kiss on my cheek, then lets go of my waist.
He walks over to the cabinet, grabs two mugs, and pours us both coffee. He slides one across the counter toward me. “Do you want any cream or sugar with that?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Good,” he says with a quiet laugh. “Because, honestly, I don’t have either.”
I look over at him and roll my eyes. He turns and leans against the counter, sipping his coffee.
