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Richard’s forehead pressed to mine, our breaths mingling. “I want you to be with me forever,” he rasped, the vulnerability in his voice made my chest tighten.

I moaned shamelessly, my walls fluttering and clenching around him, drawing a deep guttural sound from his throat. He drove into me harder, his mouth latching onto the side of my throat, sucking and biting while one large hand gripped my hip, holding me open and steady for every powerful thrust.

Tears slipped down my cheeks from the sheer intensity of it all. The devastating care he showed me in the middle of his own grief, the way he worshipped my body while fighting his own darkness. He kissed the tears away, then claimed my mouth in a deep, filthy kiss, his tongue fucking me in time with his cock.

My body tightened, pleasure coiling viciously low in my belly.

“Richard—ohhh god!”

“I know, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

He angled his hips and hit that perfect spot deep inside me. I cried out, my back arching sharply off the bed as my pussy spasmed wildly around his thick length. The orgasm crashed through me in blinding waves, ripping me apart with pleasure so intense my vision blurred. He kept thrusting through it, prolonging every pulsing contraction, wringing every last bit of ecstasy from my trembling body.

His rhythm began to falter. His powerful muscles strained above me, veins standing out along his neck and arms. “Fuck… I’m so close.”

He fucked me harder for a few more desperate, pounding strokes, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing loudly. Then, with a broken groan, he suddenly pulled out. His slick, throbbing cock pulsed hot and heavy against my stomach as thick spurts of cum spilled across my flushed skin. Stream after stream splashed over my belly and breasts, marking me. He stroked himself through every pulse, breathing harshly against my neck, until the last drop coated my skin.

We stayed locked together, panting, his body heavy and comforting over mine as the aftershocks trembled through us both. For a long moment he remained on top of me, both of us shaking in the aftermath. I could still feel the deep, lingering pulse of him inside me even after he had pulled out, a reminder that I was no longer a virgin. That I had given him something I could never take back. The thought sent a strange, possessive thrill through my chest. He had claimed me so completely, and I had wanted it more than anything.

Then he collapsed beside me and pulled me tight against his chest, one hand possessively cupping my cum-covered breast, the other stroking slowly through my hair. I never imagined it could feel this intimate, this raw. Part of me already craved more, even as my body protested the newness of it all.

He kissed my temple, his lips lingering. “I love you Samantha.”

His words wrapped around my heart like a warm chain. Cold air brushed over my exposed, sticky skin as reality slowly tried to creep back in, but Richard’s heat kept the world locked firmly outside our little bubble.

“I love you too.”

He didn’t rush to clean me up. Instead he held me even closer, his fingers tracing idle patterns through the mess he had left on my breasts, as if he loved seeing me marked by him. I loved it too, in a dark, secret way I wasn’t ready to admit. This handsome, grieving man had just taken my virginity and I felt more alive, more his, than I had ever felt before.

Richard kissed my forehead, then my temple, before reluctantly pulling away. “Don’t move,” he murmured, his voice still rough with spent pleasure.

I watched him rise from the bed, unable to look away from the sight of his tall, powerful body. His lean muscles shifted under smooth skin as he moved. His cock was still half-hard, glistening with my arousal and his release. Heat flushed my cheeks at how shamelessly my body responded to him already. He disappeared into the bathroom. I heard water running, then he returned with a soft, warm towel, his eyes dark and tender as they roamed over me.

He climbed back onto the bed and knelt between my parted thighs, his powerful body looming over me in the soft lamplight. His dark eyes roamed slowly over every inch of my flushed skin. They lingered on the glistening mess he had left across my stomach and breasts, on the slick shine coating my swollen cunt. The heat in his gaze made my breath catch.

“You’re so perfect,” he said quietly, almost reverently. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

The towel was warm as he pressed it to my skin. He started at my breasts, wiping in slow, gentle circles that caressed each sensitive nipple with the soft fabric. He leaned down to kiss the valley between them, his lips feather-light and tender. Those same lips brushed over my tightening peaks, sucking gently until they pebbled hard in his mouth.

I shivered violently, a soft whimper slipping from my throat as fresh sparks of pleasure danced across my oversensitive nerves.

He moved lower, dragging the warm towel across my stomach in long, soothing strokes that cleaned away every sticky trace of his release. With each pass, he followed the path with his mouth, kissing, licking. His tongue traced lazy patterns over my ribs and belly button, sending little jolts of heat straight to my clit. When he reached my hips, he spread my thighs even wider, fully exposing me to his hungry stare.

I tensed, a sudden wave of shyness washing over me despite everything we had just done.

“Relax, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing. “Let me take care of you.”

He pressed the warm towel gently between my legs and carefully wiped away the slick arousal and faint traces of blood. He took his time, folding the soft cloth and stroking it tenderly over my slit, then across my still-throbbing clit. Every touch sent bright sparks of sensation racing through me. I was so hypersensitive that even the lightest pressure made my hips twitch.

Between each stroke, he leaned in to kiss me there. Soft, open-mouthed kisses trailed along my inner thighs before settling directly on my pussy. His tongue traced my lips, not demanding more pleasure but simply soothing and adoring every inch of me. I moaned quietly, my fingers threading through his thick hair as my hips rolled in tiny, involuntary movements against his mouth.

“You did so good for me,” he murmured against my slick flesh. He pressed one last lingering kiss to my swollen clit before moving the towel back up to finish cleaning my belly and chest. “I have never felt anything like you, Samantha. Never.”

When he was finally satisfied, he tossed the towel aside and stretched out beside me, pulling me securely into his arms. His large hand stroked down my side in long, possessive caresses before cupping my ass and drawing me flush against his body. I could feel his cock stirring again against my thigh, but he made no move to act on it. He simply held me close, as if he needed the contact as much as I did.

Instead, he kissed me deeply, slow and passionate. Our tongues slid together in a sensual dance as he poured every unspoken emotion into me. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet room.

“Please…stay with me tonight,” he said. “I don’t want to be alone… and I’m nowhere near done being inside you.”