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The kiss deepens, and I harden against her thigh, recovery time impressively short given everything we’ve just done. One of the many benefits of being head-over-fucking-heels for someone, I suppose—desire never seems to fully ebb away.
When we break for air, I brush my nose against hers, a gesture that’s become our own silent language over the past year to check in on each other. “You okay for another round?” I whisper, not wanting to presume.
She nods, her eyes catching the candlelight as she looks up at me. “Always,” she breathes.
I boop the tip of her nose with my finger, grinning down at her. “Insatiable,” I tease. “My little cross-country runner with stamina for days.”
She pinches my side, making me yelp. “Says the rockstar who just fucked me against a door after being handcuffed while being teased and fucked for almost an hour. That’s character development because your stamina used to be shit.”
“Fair point,” I concede, kissing the tip of her nose as I chuckle. “Though I believe it was you who did most of the fucking earlier. I was just along for the ride. The very, very good ride. Ten outta ten would not recommend the handcuffs. Too restrictive.”
Her laugh is bright in the dim room, cutting through my lingering unease about the darkness. I align myself between her legs, relishing her warmth against the tip of my cock. With deliberate slowness, I push inside her, watching her face as I do—the way her lips part as my thick cock stretches her pussy, how her eyelids flutter, the slight furrow between her brows as she adjusts to me again.
This time is different. Instead of the frantic pace against the door, I move with measured thrusts, rolling my hips in a steady rhythm. My hands cradle her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks as I gaze into her eyes. There’s an intimacy to this that surpasses anything physical—this connection, this silent communion between us.
“Against the door,” I say softly, continuing my gentle movements inside her, “that was old Andrew having sex with you like he always dreamed of. How that night should have gone if only that plan hadn’t failed miserably.”
Her eyes lock with mine, questioning.
“And this Andrew right now?” I continue, lowering my head to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “This is the one worshipping the woman he loves, making love to her.”
She swallows hard beneath me. In the flickering candlelight, her eyes grow shiny with unshed tears. She blinks rapidly, trying to clear them away, but I catch one with my thumb as it escapes down her temple.
“Don’t hide from me,” I whisper, still moving inside her with gentle, deep thrusts. “Look at me, love. You’re safe with me. Always.”
She does, those stunning emerald eyes meeting mine, vulnerable and open in a way few people ever get to see. I lower my lips to brush against hers; not quite a kiss, just a caress.
“I love you, Vivian,” I tell her, the words simple and cliché but carrying the weight of twenty years of longing, of one year of healing and growing together. “Fy unig gariad.”
Goosebumps rise on her arms—from emotion or from the chill in the air, I’m not sure. I wrap myself around her more completely, trying to cover as much of her smaller body with mine as possible. My hands stroke along her arms, warming her skin as I press kisses to her cheek, her forehead, the line of her jaw.
“I love you too, Andrew,” she whispers back, her voice thick with emotion. “Way too much that words are not enough to fully express it.”
She tightens around me as I slowly thrust, her body responding to the tenderness between us. One of her hands comes up to cup my face, thumb tracing the scar on my lip—a permanent reminder of that fateful Halloween night. Her mark.
“I’ve regretted not having the courage to approach you back in high school,” she confesses, her voice barely audible over our synchronized breathing. “Not confessing my attraction instead of waiting for you to come to me.”
I smile down at her, pressing a kiss to her palm. “No thinking about the past,” I admonish gently, rolling my hips in a way that makes her gasp. “Maybe we were meant to miss each other around that time and only find ourselves again years later, after we’d grown enough to be both bold and”—I grin—“let’s admit it, a bit goofy, too.”
“I am not goofy,” she protests, pinching my side again.
“Says the woman who organized a fake kidnapping roleplay for our first month anniversary,” I tease, grinding my pelvis against hers in a circular motion that has her clutching at my shoulders.
“That was romantic!” she argues, though the effect is somewhat diminished by the moan that follows. “A callback to our origin story!”
“Our origin story involves actual serial killers, us nearly bleeding out in the forest, and an amazing woman saving my ass,” I remind her, maintaining my steady rhythm. “Yet somehow, still more normal than most couples who meet on dating apps. I’ve heard some horror stories…”
She laughs, the sound transforming into a gasp as I change angles slightly, hitting that spot inside her that makes her toes curl. Her pussy tightens around me, her breathing becoming more erratic. My own orgasm is building, pressure coiling at the base of my spine.
“Are you close?” I ask, my voice strained with the effort of maintaining control.
She nods frantically, fingers digging into my shoulders. “Very.”
“Want to come together?” When she nods again, I smile down at her, holding her gaze. “Then eyes on me, love. We’re going to stargaze together.”
I increase my pace just slightly, maintaining the deep connection between us. Her eyes lock with mine, pupils blown wide with pleasure, and I watch as the tension in her builds and builds until she’s right on the edge. My own orgasm approaches with the same intensity, and as her walls clench around me, I let go, spilling inside her as she comes on my cock.
Yeah, this is my limit.
