Page 59 of Isla

"Fuck, you feel good," she moans, her body soft and pliant beneath me. "Then what?" she asks, her gaze slightly unfocused. It dawns on me that she's trying to hold off, too. Draw this moment out as long as possible.

"You stir in flour, oil, and salt. Then you knead the dough." My voice is rough around the edges as I struggle for control. I slam into her several times, my cock screaming in protest as I pull out before I come.

"Dylan, no, I'm so close. Get there with me."

"I want this to last forever, Isla." I trace the curve of her jaw with my finger, trying to memorize every little detail.

"We have all night." She pulls my lips to hers, kissing me tenderly as she rakes her nails down my back. I push my tongue into her mouth as I impale her, fitting my pubic bone against her and rocking back and forth, her clit rolling between us as I thrust into her. "Oh god, Dylan. Don't stop," she gasps, breaking our kiss, her face crumpling as her body finally gives in.

"Yes, Isla. Come for me. That's my girl," I rasp, coaxing her through it, hanging onto my control until her body relaxes beneath me. Only then do I give myself permission to let go.

"Look at me," she whispers, soft hands framing my face as I slam into her, my entire existence narrowing to this moment. I hold her gaze as I fall apart, ramming into her, surrendering my soul to her, giving her a part of me I've never given to anyone else. She draws me into a kiss so sweet, so poignant, it brings tears to my eyes.

"Thank you, Isla," I rasp, rolling off of her and gathering her in my arms, pulling her tight to my body.

"For what?" she asks, looking up at me.

"For being you." I kiss the tip of her nose, wishing we could stay like this forever. "Let's get you washed up and then we can come back and cuddle." I untangle myself from her arms and scoop her out of the bed, carrying her to the bathroom.

"What if I don't want to cuddle?" she asks, raising an eyebrow as I set her down next to the toilet. My heart rises to my throat.

"Do you want me to leave?" I ask, my voice cracking.

"Yes, get," she says, shooing me away.

I close the door softly behind me. Did she really just tell me to leave? Swallowing hard, I pick up my sweatpants from the floor, stepping into them as she comes back out of the bathroom.

"What are you doing?"

"You asked me to leave."

"Leave the bathroom so I could pee, you dummy."

"You said you didn't want to cuddle!" I protest, standing there with my pants half on like an idiot.

"Because I want to dootherthings, Dylan." She plants her hand on my chest, pushing me back onto the bed, sinking to her knees.

"Isla–"

She presses her finger to my lips, silencing me. "You promised me five rounds, remember?"

"I said if we're lucky."

"Oh, we're going to be lucky. Don't you worry about that," she says, mischief sparkling in her eyes.

I wakeup early the next morning, my body already reacting to the feel of her skin against mine, the smell of her shampoo, the soft puffs of breath against my chest. I extricate myself from her limbs, rolling out of the bed and pulling the blankets over her. I can't help but stand there and stare. The glow of the sunrise lends a rosy hue to her skin, her hair dark in the dim light. She opens her eyes, startling me. One slow blink and then she rolls over and falls back asleep. I grab my sweatpants and tiptoe out of the room, closing the door carefully behind me. I start a pot of coffee and leave a note in case she wakes up while I'm gone, and then wrestle with the front door, wincing at how loud it creaks as I open it.

Two hours later, I’m heading back down to the cottage with a plate of hot bagels, some cream cheese, and orange juice. I peek through the side window and nearly fall flat on my face. Isla is standing in front of the picture window, completely naked, sipping on a steaming cup of coffee.

"Morning, beautiful," I say as I push through the door, setting everything down on the coffee table and carefully taking her mug from her before pulling her into my arms.

Her face lights up like a Christmas tree. "Did you make me bagels?"

"I did. Would you like one now?" I ask, curling a lock of her hair around my finger.

"Later," she whispers, winding her arms around my neck and pulling my lips to hers.

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