This was love.
We were making love.
“Drake,” I whispered.
“I know, Birdy,” he replied.
There was so much inside me building and building and building.
The love, the lust, the desire—everything piled on top of one another.
It was slow and wonderful; it had my heart hammering in my chest. His hand came up and touched the side of my neck. His thumb went to my jaw.
“Love you, Birdy.”
Closing my eyes, I moaned and then opened them. “Love you, babe.”
He brought me in for a kiss just as I shattered around him. He groaned, following with his own climax. I always got this thrilled sensation rolling over me knowing I had a part of him inside me.
Drake gave me one last kiss, just as his phone rang. He snorted. “They can wait.”
Smiling, I nodded and rested on his chest as his arms wound around me.
We were happy. Content. And yet I was excited to see our lives grow together.
But first, I got to move in with the man I loved, and I couldn’t wait.