Intent(48)

Our lips meet again, our tongues desperate for the sensation, and in my carnal haze, I can’t think of anything other than burying my cock inside her. The unrelenting need to feel her body wrap around me like a form-fitting glove, stroke me until I lose control of myself, and shudder when her pleasure peaks at indescribable levels consumes me.

“I need you now, Layne. Right now,” I demand.

“I’m yours. Take whatever you want from me,” she purrs.

In our fever, our clothes instantly disappear from our bodies into haphazard piles on the floor. I lift her in my arms and place her on the couch before climbing on top of her, aligning our bodies, and settling my hips between her legs. Our mouths collide once again as our bodies become one. We’re combined in the most perfect unity when my hips thrust forward and drive into her with one fluid move.

She cries out in pleasure as I stretch her to accommodate my girth and fill her as far as she can take me. Each plunge into her becomes more significant than the last. We move hurriedly like two desperate animals, each grappling for more—more pleasure, deeper commitment, and an intimate conversation that can only come from combining our minds and bodies.

With the most basic need satisfied, our focus becomes the more essential needs. When I push into her, it’s so much more than sex. So much more than just f*cking. This thrust tells her how much she means to me, that she’s now part of me and I’m part of her. When her hips rise to meet me and take me deeper inside her, she’s saying she’s all mine and she’s claimed me as hers. I adjust our position so that her back is supported by the armrest of the couch, and we’re face-to-face, eye-to-eye, and mouth-to-mouth when we tumble over the edge of rapture together.

I’m still buried deep inside her, my cock still throbbing and her inner walls still quivering, when our bodies still after the frenzy that just possessed us. Our lips are still touching as we pant, our chests heaving in an attempt to catch up with our sprinter’s pace. The unspoken words pass between us through our eyes alone. We both know there’s no going back, no backing out, and no changing our minds. We’re in this together, through thick and thin, for better or for worse.

“I am completely under your spell,” I whisper against her mouth. “You are so perfect.”

A tear drops from her eye and rolls down her cheek. Concerned, I search her eyes for a clue of what she’s thinking. “I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you, Ace.” Her arms tighten around me, pulling my weight down onto her, and her hands glide up and down my back lovingly.

Not until this second do I realize that we just made love without a condom. No protection whatsoever. “Layne, baby,” I interrupt our serene afterglow time. “I am so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about, Ace?”

“I’m not wearing a condom. In the heat of the moment, it didn’t even occur to me. I promise you have nothing to worry about from me. I haven’t forgotten even once since I was with River’s mom, but I still get tested regularly.” I feel like such a dick, ruining our perfect moment like this.

“It’s okay, Ace. I’m just as responsible for it as you are, and I got caught up in the moment too. Bobby is the only other man I’ve ever been with, but I went to the doctor to have myself checked as soon as we broke up. That’s the one thing I could think clearly about.”

“Does this mean we can stop using the condoms completely now? There is nothing better than being able to feel you with no barriers between us.”

“After years of doctor visits, irregular cycles, and trying to get pregnant, I now know I can’t, so I’m not on birth control. But I’m okay with it if you are. This time felt so much more intimate…personal…real.”

“We are real, Layne. All the unanswered questions will work out if we do this together, as one.”

“Together,” she agrees. “You know, we’re very lucky River didn’t wake up and catch us in here.”

“She doesn’t hear anything once she falls asleep. There was a bad thunderstorm earlier this spring. The thunder was so loud it shook the house. She slept straight through it,” I chuckle. “As sleepy as she was after her bath, there’s no way we could’ve disturbed her.”

I reluctantly separate our bodies and pick her up in my arms as I stand. By the time we reach my bedroom door, I’m ready to experience everything that is Layne Elliott all over again. Crawling over her after I lay her down in my bed, I grasp one leg behind her knee, push it forward, and slide inside her. I push to the hilt and greedily accept her moans of pleasure.

“You are my addiction. I don’t ever want to be cured,” I murmur against her soft skin. “Stay with me tonight. Don’t go.”

“If you want me to stay, I won’t leave.”

Something in her tone catches my attention. Does she want me to ask her to stay in Oak Grove with me? Can I expect her to give up the life and career she’s built in New York and permanently move here with me?

What would my answer be if she asked the same of me?

I continue to rock into her, ravenous for her touch, her scent, and her sounds. Fuck, her moans, whimpers, and screams in the throes of passion just about make me lose control. Many times, I cover her mouth with mine and swallow her cries to help buffer the noise level.