“I don’t,” I whispered. “But I believe in this.” I moved closer to her, touching my forehead to hers, reminding her of the blinding feeling we shared so easily, so organically. “I believe in us.”
Her arms rested on mine, her fingers lightly pressing into my flesh. She stared at my lips for a few seconds before she closed her eyes, like she could hear the unison of our two heartbeats, feel the tightness of our souls as they wrapped together into a knot. “Alright…”I sat on the couch, my back against the cushion with my knees apart, my bare feet on the rug. My hands were still at my sides, my hard cock against my stomach as I stared at Catalina in front of me.
Her sweater was somewhere on the rug, her bra on the coffee table, and after she got her jeans off, her thumbs slipped under the lace of her panties before she pulled them down. Her pussy was perfectly groomed, her little nub visible between the slit at the apex of her thighs. She pushed them down over her strong thighs, and when she released the fabric, they fell the rest of the way to the floor. She stepped out of them then came close.
I could barely fucking breathe.
The living room was dark because the TV was off, the windows were open to the view of the city, the lit-up cathedral in the distance, and it was so quiet that I could hear every sound, from her slow breathing to the stretch of the fabric of the couch once her knees landed on the cushion.
It’d been so goddamn long.
My cock hadn’t been anywhere else, not even in my hand. My body wanted sex, but my heart wanted this spiritual connection, to feel her in a way no one else ever had, to feel our breaths sync, our heartbeats race even though we hardly moved.
Her hands went to the back of the couch as she guided herself down, careful not to grab me or cause my injuries to flare up. She planted her feet on either side of me on the couch, holding herself up like the fit athlete she was.
My hands went to her strong cheeks, and I gripped them hard, feeling the muscles that turned me on.
She brought her face close to mine, holding herself without even touching me, her lips ready to consume mine.
My fingers kneaded her flesh, touching that sexy ass in my hands. I pulled her a little closer, wanting to feel her tits rest against my chest, feel those hard nipples drag against me. I breathed against her mouth, excited like a boy rather than prepared like a man.
Her lips landed against mine, her mouth softer than her silky legs, softer than her rose-petal cheeks. It started off so gentle, like she was getting used to my kiss all over again.
I closed my eyes and fell hard, fell more in love with her at the simple touch.
I’d wondered if she’d been with anyone else, late at night when my thoughts haunted me. It wasn’t just jealousy that drove me crazy, but possessiveness, because she was still mine according to my heart. I didn’t care where she’d been, how many guys had had the honor to fuck her, but now that she was mine, I wanted to be her one and only…and her last.
One hand spanned across her ass, while the other moved into her hair, stroking the silky curtain that trailed down her back. My fingers cupped her face, my thumb brushing over the corner of her mouth as I kissed her. My dick oozed from the tip and dripped down my length to my balls just from her kiss.
She grabbed my base and guided me straight before she lowered herself, her lips wrapping around me in the sexiest embrace, coating me with her wetness, squeezing me with her tightness.
I looked her in the eye as I watched her take me, watched her handle that big dick like a pro.
She lowered herself farther, sliding down my length, going slow because her body wasn’t used to me anymore. Her breathing became more labored the farther she went, like the discomfort was brand-new.
I struggled at just the contact, struggled at the feeling of our combined bodies, of the way she loved me and I loved her. My hands went back to her ass so I could support her a bit, my arms aching with the exertion.
She grabbed both of my wrists, her shoulders back and her tits pushed forward. She pulled my arms away, showing me that she didn’t need my help at all, that she didn’t want me to hurt myself by trying to lift her body. She placed my hands on her narrow waist, my thumbs stretching across her stomach to her belly button—where her skull diamond still was.