Now that I had her, I didn’t want to lose her.
I knew what it was like to lose her, and I never wanted to go through that again.
It was more painful than my divorce—in a different way.
As if she knew I wanted to say something, she stayed quiet, being patient—like always.
“You make me feel something.” It was a terrible choice of words, but I couldn’t describe it better than that.
She stared into my eyes, hanging on every word.
“Derek was the only one who made me feel emotions, made me feel connected to another person. But you make me feel something too—just in a different way. I’ve always been numb to everything, to people, to the world…but I don’t feel that way with you.”
Her eyes softened.
“You make me feel…everything.”
Her hands moved to my chest, and she stepped closer to me. “You make me feel too.”
I rested my forehead against hers, my hands sliding to her waist. I held her that way for a long time, just feeling the high of chemicals in my brain, the pleasure she gave me, the way she made my heart feel light and airy. “I never want to lose you.”
Her arms rested on mine, her chin tilted up to look at me. “You won’t…because I never want to lose you either.”
She was naked in my bed, her toenails painted pink, her hair scattered across the pillow, her lips anxious for mine.
I dropped my final piece of clothing, my boxers, and then approached the bed, my hard dick ready to return to its happy place. The head was already drooling, getting a drop or two on the rug. I stared at the beautiful woman waiting for me, the woman who made me forget the nameless and faceless women who had been there before. I was never alive with them. But with her, I burned brighter than the sun.
My knees hit the bed and I moved up her body, but I stopped at her waist. I lay on my stomach, scooped up her ass with both arms, and then pressed a kiss to her wet sex.
She hadn’t expected it, but she arched her back immediately and released a suppressed moan. Her hand immediately went to my head, her fingertips digging into my hair, and she held on like she needed something to grab on to.
I tasted her, fulfilled an urge I tried to pretend I never had. And she tasted exactly like I thought—vanilla ice cream. My entire mouth sealed over her pussy, and I sucked, devouring her entrance and doing exactly what I wanted, my dick oozing onto the bed underneath me. My hands pushed her legs farther back, getting more access to the feature that now obsessed me. I’d been a sexual person since I hit puberty. It was a biological gift, a pleasure we got to enjoy for no reason at all, to lower blood pressure, to reduce stress, to sleep better. It supposedly created intimacy between two partners, but that had never been my experience—until now.
She rolled her head back and continued to moan, her nails digging into the flesh of my shoulders, leaving scratches that would take days to heal. She pushed herself back into me, shoving her entrance in my face like she loved it.
Good. Because I loved it too.
She started to whimper as if she were in pain. Her breaths came out as hisses through her clenched teeth, and then she bucked her hips aggressively, her body giving in to the powerful pleasure that swept through her. “Yes…oh my god.” She panted through her pleasure, her breaths slowly returning to normal, her nails being kinder to my flesh.
I gave her a final kiss before I moved farther up her body, my hips wedging between her thighs, my dick sliding between her soaked lips, getting coated with her arousal and my own saliva. I held my body on top of hers, my face lowering until we were close together.
Her eyes were still full of desire, as if that climax wasn’t enough for her and she wanted more. Her palms flattened against my chest and slid to my shoulders, her fingertips soft against my skin. She pulled her knees back, opening herself to me, impatient.
I was in no hurry.
I loved to stare at her. I loved to take it slow. With the others, it was hot kisses all the way to the bed, and then I shoved my dick inside her as quickly as possible. We fucked hard, and then it was over.
I didn’t have that urge with Cleo.
I enjoyed every second, watched the way her chest rose and fell quickly, as if her heart needed more oxygen without cardiovascular stress. She was just anxious for me, excited for me. Her nipples pebbled into little mounds, and her small tits still formed a sexy cleavage line. I loved her body, from the sexy lips of her mouth to the ones between her legs.