Discretion (The Dumonts, #1)(34)

I keep riding him like this: me in charge of the depth with each roll of my hips, him in charge of the speed as he pumps himself up into me. It feels so good, too good, especially when his thumb rubs down my clit and my back arches and I’m staring up at the sun and the sky and it’s blinding and beautiful.

Everything about us is blinding and beautiful.

“I need to come,” he says hoarsely, and I look down to see him staring up at me with the most intense and passionate gaze that I’ve ever seen from him, the kind of look that holds your own eyes hostage and promises to never let go.

I don’t want him to let go.

And I don’t want to let go.

Not now, not ever.

But then he’s about to go over the edge, and he always makes sure I’m coming along for the ride. I don’t even have a choice in the matter. He strokes me expertly, his thrusts deepening, and I’m opening up wider and wider until I’m free-falling down, down, down.

The orgasm takes us both at once. It slithers up my spine and then explodes in a shower of fireworks and electricity, and I’m crying out his name, trying my best to keep my hips pumping even though my body doesn’t know what direction it’s heading in.

Neither does my mind.

Neither does my heart.

I’m ripped apart at the seams by this man, and after this, I’m not sure he’ll be able to put me back together again, because he’s not going to be there.

“Sadie, Sadie,” he moans as the thrusting slows, his hands slick on my hips, “my beautiful girl.”

But I barely hear him. I’m still somewhere in the universe, twirling around in strange galaxies, not wanting this feeling—the fact that he’s inside me—to ever stop.

It does, though.

I collapse against him and roll over, just as he pulls out and makes room on the lounger beside me, holding me in his arms for a few seconds, his heart beating through his chest, as if wanting to join mine.

When I return to planet Earth and the blue sky above me stops spinning, I’m hit with a rush of emotions so intense, I have to pinch my eyes shut.

Fuck.

This was it.

That was the last time he’ll ever be inside me, working my body with such skill and determination and lust that I can’t imagine how I survived for so long without him. How was I able to go through life not knowing just what it was like to have someone be so in tune with every cell in your body, every drop of blood pouring through your veins? It’s like before I met him, I thought just having food, water, and shelter was enough to keep you going. But it’s not true at all. Sex is just as important, and sex with this man, this gorgeous, incredible man, is just as vital to my body and my needs as anything else.

I think I might decay without him.

“We should go,” he whispers to me as he gets to his feet, disposes of the condom, and zips up his pants.

I nod and slowly sit up, pivoting away from him, afraid to look at him just in case he sees the tears in my eyes. I quickly pull down my shirt and adjust my bra, my nipples still hard and my skin covered in goose bumps.

“Hey,” he says, and I look to see him holding out his hand to me. “Come on.”

I put my hand in his, and he hauls me to my feet, then wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a hug. His embrace is warm and comforting and makes everything right again. It makes everything safe. To step away from his arms is to face a cruel and uncertain world. To stay here is bliss.

“I’m going to miss you very much,” he says, whispering harshly into my neck.

“You’re just going to miss the sex,” I say, and I knew it was a mistake the moment I opened my mouth.

He pulls back and stares at me intently, a deep line formed between his brows. “Why would you say that?”

“I was just joking,” I tell him, trying to look away.

He gives me a light shake. “No. It’s not just the sex. I’ve had plenty of sex with plenty of women, and I know when it’s just the sex. This isn’t it. I care about you, Sadie. More than I ever thought possible. Yes, we’ve only known each other for a week, but in this week . . .” He looks away, licking his lips as he searches for his next words. “This week has been one of the best weeks I’ve ever had. In my whole fucking life.”

I blink at him, wide-eyed.

Whoa.

How can that even be? I mean, he has to have one of the most blessed lives out there.

“I mean it,” he says, his eyes coming back to meet mine. “Being with you . . . I could finally be myself. Or I could finally be someone else. Or maybe both those things are the same things. All I know is that I’ve felt wanted and happy and free, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve had that.”

I suck in my lower lip as my eyes roam all over his handsome face. I have such a hard time coming to terms with the idea that his life hasn’t had all those things, that he hasn’t had everything he’s ever wanted.

“You have everything,” I say softly. “How could this be . . . How can this mean so much to you?”

“I don’t know. It just does. Tell me all of this meant something to you.”

“Of course it did. It meant everything. I’m still trying to wrap my head around what happened here. With you and me. With everything. It’s been a dream, a dream I’ve been so afraid to wake up from. A dream I will have to wake up from very soon, and when I do, it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker.”