He’s still standing in front of me, watching me watch him, and I reach toward him hesitantly. “Can…can I touch you?”
His throat bobs as he swallows, and his voice is hoarse when he says, “Touch me any way you want, Ivy.”
I nod, moving closer to the edge of the bed, pausing very briefly before wrapping my hand around the hard length of him. His skin is surprisingly soft and hot to the touch, and I give him a tentative squeeze, unsure of what to do. When Wes groans, I glance up at his face. His eyes are heated, his pupils glazed. But seeing my uncertainty, he wraps his big hand over mine and guides my movements, stroking up and down the length. Adding a subtle twist. “Like this, baby. Yes. God, yes. You’re doing it perfectly. That feels so fucking good.”
His hand falls away from mine, and I continue the motions, loving all the deep, breathless sounds he makes. His eyes meetmine again, dark and filled with need, and a wave of heat sears down my spine. My stomach dips at the lust I see on his face, and I need him now more than ever.
“I want to feel you,” I say, removing my hand, “inside me.”
His gaze holds mine for a moment, giving me the opportunity to change my mind. When I don’t, he leans down to brush a kiss across my lips, pulling away too soon before reaching for his suitcase at the foot of the bed. He rifles through it and pulls out a condom, ripping open the foil and rolling it on in one quick motion. Then he kneels back on the bed, takes my face between his hands, and kisses me softly.
“Are you sure?” he murmurs, his voice low and sweet. As his eyes hold mine, his thumbs stroke tenderly across my cheekbones, and I lean into his touch. “If you want to stop, say the word. There’s no pressure to do anything more.”
I smile softly at him, feeling the weight of this moment. There have been so many times when I’ve pushed him away or freaked out, and yet he’s still willing to try. He’s still willing to trust my judgement and let me make decisions over my own body.
And he’s careful to make sure I know I’m in control.
I hold his wrists as his hands cradle my face. “I don’t want to stop. I want to. I wantyou.”
Something sparks behind his eyes, something deeper than desire and greater than affection.Love, I think, and my entire body tingles.
He nods, and then I lie back down on the bed. There’s a bit of fumbling as we try to situate ourselves, and he’s careful not to crush me with his full weight. My heart rate spikes, but I focus on the adoring look in his eyes, grounding myself.
“If you want to stop at any moment,” he says, “let me know, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper.
He kisses me once more and then carefully guides himself between my legs. My thighs clench around his hips as he sinks into me, slowly, gently, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are you okay?” he murmurs, his voice tight and a little breathless. “Am I hurting you?”
I shake my head, my hands gripping his arms. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s definitely…full. I take a second to adjust, finding that I don’t mind the stretch. “No, but go slow, okay?”
“I will, Ives. I promise.”
And then he begins to move, slow, languid thrusts. I keep my eyes locked on his, forcing my body to relax. The more he moves, the better it feels, and eventually, goosebumps break out across my skin as a whimper breaks free of my lips. He covers it with a kiss, and I wind my arms around his neck, moving with him as he moves inside me, my heart overflowing with joy and relief.
Because I love him.
I love doing this with him.
I love how it feels when our heartbeats align, our bodies entwine, and our breath syncs to the same quiet rhythm. I didn’t think it was possible to feel this close to another person. This intimate and vulnerable. This cherished and revered. Because it’s not just sex. It will never be just sex. It’sus, Wes and me, two people connecting on a higher plane, two souls becoming one in the dark.
He shifts his hips and hitches my leg higher, the angle deeper than before. So deep that my eyes roll back. That every nerve and sensation heightens.
“Wes,” I breathe, clutching desperately at his shoulders, because it’s somehow too much and not enough. The fullness. The tension. The friction. The tingles down my spine. Heat coils in my stomach, and I feel caught off guard. In pure disbelief, because even though I was ready, I never dreamed I couldactually reach the peak. Not with another person. “I think…I think, I’m close.”
“Fuck,” he breathes, before his mouth claims mine in a rough, open-mouthed kiss. At this point, I barely have the ability to kiss him back, and I moan against his lips, our hot breath mingling as our movements become more fervent. More frantic. My nails dig into his skin as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, driving deeper, pumping faster, my hips rolling desperately to meet his.
“Oh, god,” I gasp, as my body goes taut. My vision whites out, and I fall over the edge, shattering around him, clutching at him like he’s the only thing tethering me to this earth.
“Fuck, Ivy. Yes, baby,” he murmurs while I ride out the ripples of pleasure. He buries his face in my neck, his thrusts becoming jerkier and less controlled as he chases his own release, which follows not long after.
And then we lie there for a moment, our breathing quick, our muscles trembling, our hearts beating out of control. He carefully pulls out and shifts his weight off of me, lying down beside me instead. His strong arms pull me close, and his forehead presses into mine as we both catch our breath. His hand strokes down my spine, and I sink into his embrace, my limbs liquid, my body content and sated.
“That was amazing,” I whisper against his mouth. Because it was. It was everything.
“Incredible,” he whispers back. “You’re incredible.”
I gaze at him, my pulse still fluttering, my heart about to burst. “Wes?”
