Page 38 of Whispers on the Water

I shudder but don’t break away. When he pumps all the way into me, my hands fly to his ass, gripping in and shoving at the same time. Deeper and deeper. I want to feel every inch of him.

But he moves slowly, caressing my hair with his one hand while propping himself up on his other elbow. Leaning down over me, his forehead touches mine.

The look he’s giving me is so completely vulnerable and raw that my heart slows. I finally understand. He’s purposefully slowing the experience down, sticking to his promise, and showing me he loves me, even in the midst of our shared passion.

“Stay?” he asks, repeating the request from the night before.

My hands move to his chest, the touch tender. “I’m here.” But he stops moving and looks at her expectantly. I almost laugh. He wants more, a bigger promise. “I’m not going anywhere, Greg.” It feels like my own declaration, making sure he knows I have no intention of ever leaving him. A wide smile breaks out on his face before he’s kissing me again. The weight of his body lays completely on top of me, but his movements remain gentle. Each pump into me is like another admission of his feelings.

I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms flying around his broad chest. Nails claw at his back as he confidently rocks us back and forth.

“Sam…” he moans out, his cock pistoning into me slowly, again and again.

We’re both drenched in his sweat, but I love the euphoric feel of our wet skin sliding together. It won’t be long; the tingles are building through my body like a slow fire spreading up and down my arms. Engulfing every inch of exposed skin. I clench my walls around his cock, like I’m trying to grip on and never let go. I need this moment full of such emotion to last forever. I’ve never had it before, and now that I have it, I don’t ever want it to leave. But his body snaps rigid, his brows low and serious.

“Greg. Greg, please,” I say. My arms are hooked around him like some sort of horny spider monkey. His thrusts grow jerky, and lightning speeds through my veins. Everything feels like it’s falling, floating, and spinning out of control all at once. Like popping up on a wave that’s so steep, I have to cling on for dear life until I reach the bottom.

My orgasm bursts around him, spilling warmth onto him. At the exact moment, he roars like a man possessed, exploding his heat inside of me. But my pleasure is still going. He’s still moving, and every single one of my cells is on fire, pulsing with him. My vision is blurring, clouded with the feeling, as if all my mind can take in is the sense of ecstasy.

When I think I’m going to lose all control, he finally collapses onto with a drawn-out growl. I’m unable to move, so I lay just like that, my blood still pumping far too fast as I try to catch my breath.

Instead of rolling off me, he props himself up just enough to kiss me again. It’s urgent but gentle, filled with his love as much as the sex was. But there’s a different kind of vulnerability on his lips, a needy hunger that has nothing to do with physical intimacy.

I can barely respond. It feels as though I have been wrung out like a wet beach towel. Every drip of pleasure had been released. But this kiss? Still, it speaks straight to my soul.

He eventually pulls away and rolls off, leaving us both panting. My hand flies to my forehead, my eyes wide, and I burst into laughter. I’m just so overwhelmingly happy, and laughter feels like the only way to express it. I’ve never felt this tenderly fulfilled in my entire life.

“What’s funny?” he asks, his tone a little hurt.

Turning to face him, I calm myself down. “Nothing. I just... I wasn’t expecting that.” I shake my head, sitting up. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. It was beautiful.”

He rolls onto his stomach, smoothing my hair gently. “And does this beauty want some coffee?”

I nod, but as he starts to get up, I press a gentle finger against his chest. “Oh no you don’t. After that? I’m bringing it to you.”

He chuckles and settles back onto the bed. “If you insist, my love.”

Slipping out of bed, I throw on my clothes from last night and head to his kitchen. Finding the filters and coffee grounds is easy, and I start the pot brewing while checking my phone. Tilly’s text wishing me a ‘well rounded evening’ makes me chuckle—classic Tilly humor.

Once the coffee is ready, I prepare two mugs, adding half and half to both and skipping the sugar since he doesn’t have any. Returning to the bedroom, I hand him his mug and climb back into bed beside him. He takes a sip and then just looks at me.

“Yes?” I ask, sipping carefully, but the coffee is still too hot for more.

“Just thinking I could get used to this every morning.”

I grin, shaking my head. “Slow down there, turbo. We don’t have to do everything so fast.” I place my mug on the nightstand and cuddle up to him.

He frowns slightly. “I wasn’t saying move in today—” I shoot him a playful glare, and he laughs. “I’m just saying, eventually, maybe a long way down the road…”

“Like in another decade?” I challenge, raising an eyebrow.

We both start laughing as he nods in agreement. “Yes, of course. Then I could get used to waking up next to you.” He sets his mug down, too.

Nestling against him, I rest my head on his chest. “But you’ll need to stock up on sugar if I do stay over again.”

“If?” His tone is tinged with disappointment.

I clear my throat, admitting, “Not that I don’t want to, I maybe... I guess I’m a little wary of commitments. I’m sorry.”

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