purposeful, gentle tenderness—that it felt as if this kiss were our first. Despite all the other times we’d kissed, all the other depraved things we’d done to each other.
This moment felt more raw and honest than any of it. The softness of that chaste kiss filled me with such contentment that I would’ve been happy to simply stand there and hold her—just like that—for the rest of the night.
It was Donna who teased my lips with a hint of her tongue, asking for more. I gave it to her, opening my mouth to hers, kissing her deeper, holding her tighter, my fingers digging into her back.
It was Donna who unzipped my hoodie, who whipped her own off before mashing her lips right back to mine. I helped her get all our clothes off until we were skin-to-skin. She was so hot against me, her body so soft and perfect, my cock in agony where it was pressed between us.
It was Donna who nudged me toward the bed until I was sitting down and she was climbing over me, straddling me. We moaned against each other’s lips as our breaths turned to pants, as we caressed and kissed and licked and gripped, moving seamlessly together. So seamlessly I almost forgot to grab a condom before she slid down my length.
All the other times had been rushed, frenzied, as much fighting as it was fucking. But this time, in the quiet darkness of my warm bedroom—this time it was slow, deliberate, intentional.
Before, the sex had been about release—hers and mine. About Donna getting that rush of adrenaline. About her easing the insane pressure of constantly being in control by giving up control of her body to me.
Now, as she took her time lowering herself onto me, this was not about control or danger or release. This was Donna showing me with her body what she couldn’t seem to say with her words.
She pulled back to look at me as her hips met mine, her knees splayed wide, my hands in her hair, on her ass. I groaned deep in my throat at the sensation of being so completely inside her, so carnally connected.
For a few moments she just sat there, not moving against me as my granite-hard cock twitched inside her warmth.
Breathing hard, she pressed her forehead to mine and finally found her words. “I want this, you, all of you. I want you, Hendrix—in my body, in my life, in my heart. I want . . . more.”
I kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, which was finally as warm as the rest of her. “I want more too. Everything. Even if I don’t deserve it. Even if it makes me selfish.”
She took my face in her hands and trailed her thumbs down my cheeks. “You do deserve it. You deserve happiness and light and . . . love. I love you.”
An indescribable feeling washed over me—something warm and intense and overwhelming and terrifying all at once. No one had ever said those words to me with such conviction.
“I love you,” I told her with just as much certainty.
Only then did she start to move against me. Her core ground against my pelvis, not even bouncing up and down—as if she couldn’t stand to not have me inside her for even the fraction of a second it would take to thrust back in.
We stared into each other’s eyes as we worshipped at the altar of this crazy, cosmic thing between us. And I watched as the orgasm washed over her face, her legs twitching at my sides, her whole body going tense and then so, so loose. I drank in every second of the ecstasy she was finding with me.
And then I flipped us over and lowered her gently onto the bed, claiming her lips in a kiss. My tongue moved in rhythm with my hips as I pumped in and out and in and out, but it didn’t take long. I came inside her, so deep, and moaned into her mouth. She held me close through it, clawing gently at my back, my ass.
After our breathing evened out and we cleaned up in my bathroom, we curled up on my bed with the blanket drawn up to our chins. Outside the window, the light was starting to turn that grayish indigo that signaled a new day.
“It’s dawn,” she whispered against my arm and placed a little kiss there. Her bare ass was against my crotch, her hot little