Page 63 of Sunsets & Slow Dances

Her thighs opened even further as she reached between our bodies, wrapped her hand around my cock, and squeezed. “I want to feel you inside me, now.”

Pleasure coiled in my balls, causing them to tighten against my body as I groaned under my breath, “Fuck me.”

“Yes, sir,” she teased seductively as her lips curled in a sinful smile as she began to stroke me between her legs.

My forehead rested against hers, and I stared down at where our bodies were going to be intimately joined. Her delicate fingers slid up and down my thick member in long strokes at first, but then she changed it up. She began pleasuring herself, rubbing the hood of her sex with my mushroom head as she used mini ministrations just below the cusp of my tip.

Our breaths grew choppier and choppier as we increased the delicious friction of the erotic massaging of our most intimate spots. A deep carnal ache began to radiate from my core, signaling a release beginning to build. My cock swelled and throbbed heavily as a jolt of arousal shot through it as a warning sign that I was on the verge of climax.

As much as I enjoyed Nadia taking control, I was not going to come on her stomach. I shifted my weight onto my right forearm, hooked Nadia’s leg in the crease of my elbow, and took matters into my own hands, literally. I slid the crown of my cock along her slit, making sure her body was ready for me. Within two passes, my engorged head was completely coated with her juices, and I knew she was primed and ready.

I pushed past her folds, and I was barely able to get the tip in when I was met with resistance. My entire body seized with an explosion of tingles as I hissed through clenched teeth. Her canal was too tight. It had been when we were younger; I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me she still would be that way. I leaned down and began whispering all the dirty things I wanted to do to her, which caused her body to relax and open up for me.Inch by inch, I slowly sank into her body. When I finally filled her completely, her velvety walls pulsed around me.

After giving her some time to adjust, I began to move. Her hands began to roam up and down my back. She kissed my shoulders, my biceps, my neck. I was trying to prolong the experience, but she had other ideas. Her hips began to move faster and faster, seeking her release. When I didn’t allow her to set the pace, she grabbed my ass with both hands. Her fingers dug into my cheeks as she tried to force me to fuck her faster.

As hot as it was for her to take the pleasure she wanted, I was not about to let this end so quickly. My left hand gripped her thigh, forcing her to be still. She let out a groan in frustration, but I swallowed it up in a kiss. She gasped, and I gave her another kiss. Then another. And another. And another. I kissed her top lip, then her bottom, all the while forcing her to remain still. Her inner walls were fluttering around my steel shaft as the kiss deepened. It was soft yet firm, gentle and soothing, but the moment our tongues intertwined, a spark was lit, igniting a slow burn of smoldering intensity.

Soon a hot, pulsing rush of unrestrained release flooded me. I kept my hand firmly gripping Nadia’s hip as I began to pull out and press into her warm, velvety flesh. The pressure and friction of our joining were both familiar and foreign to me. The entire experience felt the same yet completely different.

Over the years we’d been apart, I’d been with a handful of women. Not a lot, only a half dozen or so. Since I got together with Felicity seven years ago, I’d been faithful to her. But no one had ever come close to what I’d felt with Nadia. I assumed that it was just because she’d been my first, and I built up the memory of what we’d shared into something that it wasn’t. Now I knew that wasn’t the case. Our chemistry, our connection, was real.

As I continued to surge in and out of her, I felt her inner thighs begin to tremble as her breaths grew shorter and shorter.

“No one else has ever made me feel like you make me feel,” she whimpered.

“Good,” I growled, not liking the idea of anyone else touching Nadia.

She was mine. She’d always been mine, and she would always be mine.

Trying to push the thought of anyone else touching her out of my head, I pulled out and drove into her, over and over again, claiming her with each stroke. I wanted her to forget that she’d ever been with any other man but me. Only me.

21

NADIA

Nothing about this felt real.For years, I’d imagined being with Callum again. I’d dreamed about it and fantasized about it. Now that it was happening, I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. But the last place I wanted to be right now wasoutof my body. Wanting, no,needing, to ground myself in the moment, I ran my hands up and down Callum’s back, desperate to feel something tactile to anchor myself.

Pressure built low in my belly as he surged in and out of me in deep, elicit strokes. My hips bucked, seeking the pleasure that was just out of my reach, but he was having none of it. His hand gripped my thigh, forcing me to be still. I whimpered in frustration and arousal at his strength and control. I loved and hated when he took charge and didn’t allow me to set the pace. It was a sensual torment that both excited and aggravated me.

Being completely at his mercy fulfilled an unspoken desire only he had ever satisfied. I trusted him implicitly, which allowed me to surrender to him completely, something I’d never been capable of doing with another man. His primal energy overwhelmed me, sending a full-bodied shiver rushing through me from my head to my toes.

Even if this lasted all night, which I knew it wouldn’t, it would be over too soon. It was going to be fleeting. Then what would happen?

We weren’t together. We’d barely spent any time with each other since he’d arrived in town. I wasn’t even sure what his relationship status was. I knew he wasn’t cheating. He would never do that, but what if he and Felicity were on a Ross and Rachel break? Or forget the showFriends;it didn’t even have to be a fictional TV reference. What if they were on a Callum and Nadia break, and they were going to be back together next week or month?

No. Stop.This was ridiculous. I wasn’t going to waste even a second of the precious, sacred time I had with him being in my head. I needed to savor every single touch, every breath, every word, every sensation, every emotion, every moment. Not just enjoy it. I needed to savor it, to absorb it into my DNA. I had to be able to recall, relive, and revisit every single second of this night.

The last time we were together before we broke up, I had no idea it was going to be the last time. I took it for granted. I assumed I’d always have an all-access pass to Callum’s heart, his arms, his lips, and his dick. I was wrong.

This could very well be our farewell reunion performance, and I needed to soak up every single second in case there was no encore. That would be impossible if I spent the entire time in my head.

Hoping to shut my brain off from any outside noise or distraction, I focused on each of my five senses separately instead of trying to take them all in at once. It was something I’d learned to do to deal with my anxiety. I needed to be fully immersed in this experience.

I began with touch, running my hands up and down his back, concentrating on the sensation of his smooth skin and thecontours of his muscular frame. I absorbed the weight of his body bearing down on me. I luxuriated in the sensation of my ultrasensitive nipples rubbing against his bare chest.

Closing my eyes, I listened to the patterns of our intermingled labored breaths. The sounds were layered over the constant drum of my heart beating wildly in my chest. The inhales and exhales as our bodies became one and the thudding of my heartbeat combined to create the soundtrack of our lovemaking.

I inhaled deeply, breathing in the woodsy, citrus-clean scent of his soap and unique musk, which hadn’t changed in the decade he’d been gone. I’d missed that smell so badly. For months, his trademark aroma had lingered on the shirts and sweatshirts I’d ‘borrowed’ and never returned. When it finally dissipated, I mourned the loss almost as much as I’d grieved not seeing him, speaking to him, touching him, kissing him. It was the final piece of him that was gone.

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