I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. Then, without overthinking it, I leaned in close. My hand found its way to Stanton’s cheek, my thumb brushing against his salt-and-pepper beard. Our eyes met, and I saw my desire reflected back at me.
“This,” I whispered before pressing my lips to his in a tender kiss.
Stanton responded immediately, one strong arm wrapping around my waist to pull me closer. What started as gentle exploration quickly deepened as weeks of pent-up longing poured between us. My fingers tangled in his hair as he gently nipped my lower lip, drawing a soft gasp from me.
When we finally parted, both breathing heavily, I knew there was no going back. And I didn’t want to.
“Stanton…” I stood, holding out my hand to him. “Come with me?”
Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed by a look of such tenderness it made my heart ache. He took my hand, rising to his feet with fluid grace.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, leading him toward the bedroom. “I want you inside me. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
Joy spread across his features, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss on my forehead. “Will you allow me to set the mood? It’ll only take a minute.”
I nodded, then watched as Stanton moved around the room, his movements deliberate and graceful despite his large frame. He lit candles placed strategically on various surfaces—the dresser, nightstands, and even a few on the windowsill.
As each flame flickered to life, the room transformed. Soft, golden light danced across the walls, casting everything in a warm, intimate glow. The tension in my shoulders eased, replaced by a sense of anticipation and comfort.
I took in the romantic atmosphere. “It’s beautiful…”
Stanton turned to me, his silhouette backlit by the gentle candlelight. “Not as beautiful as you.”
Somehow, he made that cheesy line work, which was an accomplishment.
A blush crept up my neck, but for once, I didn’t try to hide it. Instead, I held out my hand.
Stanton’s fingers intertwined with mine as he returned to where I stood. With his free hand, he reached for a small remote on the nightstand. A gentle melody began to fill the room, the soft piano notes weaving through the air like the tendrils of smoke from the candles.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over me. I’d been looking for sex…but Stanton was giving me romance. How had I found this man? He was probably the last true romantic on the planet, and somehow, our paths had crossed.
When I opened my eyes again, Stanton gazed at me with such tenderness that it nearly took my breath away. He pulled me closer, wrapping his strong arms around me in a warm embrace. I melted into his touch, feeling safe and cherished.
Stanton’s lips met mine in a deep, passionate kiss. Unlike our earlier kisses, which had been tentative and exploring, this one felt like coming home. I wound my arms around his neck, pressing myself closer as the music swelled around us.
As we kissed, I marveled at how perfectly we fit together, how right this felt. Stanton’s hands roamed my back, gentle yet possessive, and I allowed myself to get lost in the sensation.
Stanton’s hands moved to the buttons of my shirt, his fingers gentle as he began to undo them one by one. “Is this okay?”
I nodded, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “More than okay.”
As Stanton slowly revealed my skin, his touch was reverent, each caress imbued with care and admiration. When he slid the shirt from my shoulders, I shivered, not from the cold but from the intensity of his gaze.
“You’re so beautiful,” Stanton murmured, tracing the line of my collarbone with his lips.
I blushed, unused to such open adoration. “So are you…” I tugged at the hem of his shirt. “May I?”
Stanton nodded, lifting his arms to help me remove his shirt. I ran my hands over his broad chest, marveling at the warmth of his skin. He was in excellent shape, even more so considering his age. I loved the fur on his chest—though neatly trimmed—and how strong he was. His biceps were firm, his stomach flat, and his thighs held power.
Our exploration was unhurried, each touch a discovery. When Stanton’s fingers brushed against my insulin pump, I tensed briefly, but his smile never faltered. “Part of you,” he said simply, kissing my shoulder.
I relaxed, feeling truly seen and accepted. As our kisses grew more heated, I reveled in the emotional intimacy that accompanied our physical connection.
My hands roamed lower, tugging at the button of Stanton’s jeans. He let out a soft groan as I slid down the zipper and pushed the denim over his hips. He stepped out of them, revealing black boxer briefs that hugged his muscular thighs. The outline of his erection was clearly visible through the thin fabric, and my mouth went dry at the sight.
Stanton’s hands found my hips, his thumbs rubbing circles over the jutting bones as he slowly walked me backward. The back of my knees hit the edge of the bed and I sank onto the plush comforter, pulling Stanton with me.
