Page 143 of Dancing in the Rain

They moved to the bed, and he pulled back the duvet and laid her down gently, golden hair spread beneath her head, all smooth, glowing skin, shiny eyes, and enchanting smile. He undid the buttons of his shirt, pulling it out of his jeans at the same time, eyes wandering over the slender curve of her arms, the shadows between her legs, the way her toes curled into the sheet. And she watched him, too, eyes moving over his shoulders and abs as he shed his shirt, heating as he stepped out of jeans, socks, and underwear. He lay down beside her, hand on her belly, elbow bent, his head propped on his hand. “I love you, Peyton.”

Luminous blue eyes turned to him. “I love you, too.”

His chest clenched with emotion and he pressed his face between her breasts, breathed in her scent, then kissed the inside curve of each full breast. When he brushed his lips over her nipple, she drew in a sharp breath.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “You like that. I know.”

He took a nipple into his mouth and sucked, rubbing his tongue over it. She tasted so sweet and her whimpers told him how much she loved what he did to her. He moved to the other nipple, tasted it, too, played with it with his mouth while his fingers plucked at the first, tested the weight of her breast and squeezed it.

“That feels so good,” she moaned, fingers sifting through his hair. Her body twitched and writhed against him. “So good.”

He drew back to study her nipples after his attention, now red and stiff. A fist squeezed his throat and his heart banged crazily against his ribs.

He moved over her and she reached for his dick. He throbbed at the touch of her soft hands, soft yet firm, stroking him in long pulls that sent pleasure licking over his skin.

“Inside me,” she said. “Please.”

“Condom…”

“Do we need one?”

He paused and met her eyes. “You’re safe with me, Peyton.” He already knew she was on the pill from the times he’d used the bathroom and seen them in the vanity drawer.

“And you with me.” Trust shone in those blue eyes.

She guided him into her. He felt her slickness, then her heat surrounded the head of his cock. He eased in farther, every muscle in his body taut with the effort not to pound into her as fast and deep as he could. Ownership and reverence and desperate need rushed through him as hot velvet squeezed him, and a low, rough sound tore from his throat. He held his weight on his elbows as she parted her legs wider, and he pushed into her. The air ripped out of his lungs.

“Peyton, oh, God.”

“I know.” Her hands clutched his ass, pulling him deeper. “Fuck me, Drew.”

His groans mingled with her sighs as their bodies came together, perfect, simple, right. He pulsed inside her, going very still, his hands in her silky hair. Nose to nose, their gazes locked on each other in a connection that was so intimate; not just their bodies but their hearts and their souls and their lives. “Love you,” he gasped. An overwhelming desire to protect and take care of her, to be with her forever, made his eyes sting.

Love was fucking scary. He’d thought he had it once before and it had been crushed. He’d found it again and almost lost it because of his stupid fears. Loving again was probably the biggest risk he’d ever taken because of the power it gave Peyton to utterly destroy him.

But at that moment he trusted her with that power. He saw the love in her eyes, the shadows of regret for how they’d nearly lost each other, and the absolute trustshehad in him. And he was going to be worthy of that trust till his last breath.

His hands framed her face, and his gaze held hers. He saw a reflection of his own devotion, his own longing, his own hope, in her eyes, drawing him in. “I love you, Peyton.”

Her hands stroked over his back and he felt the tenderness in her touch, heard her pleasure in her muffled whimpers, leaned in and felt her love in the brush of her breath against his mouth. “I love you, too, Drew.”

They moved together in a rhythm already familiar, already perfect. Pleasure coiled deep inside him as he rocked into her sweet pussy. Right where he belonged.

Her body tightened beneath him and around him as she climaxed, squeezing him inside and out. She muffled her cry and he watched her face, humbled by her beauty, awed by the ecstasy he saw there because of him, gratified by her love. Pressure tightened the base of his spine, sliding into his balls, building to his own almost unbearable peak of pleasure. Her hands gripped his hips as he drove into her again…and again…and exploded. Lights flashed as his lids squeezed shut against the intensity of his orgasm, and he poured himself into her in long, hard, almost painful pulses.

—

Peyton’s body still trembled from the shattering orgasm she’d just had, overwhelmed by not only the physical pleasure but also the deep bond she felt with Drew. It was almost too much, too intense, too good. It scared her a little and yet she wanted this more than anything else.

She kissed his shoulder, his face buried in the side of her neck, his breath warm on her skin.

“The good thing about those afternoon quickies was that we could be as noisy as we wanted,” he mumbled.

Laughter bubbled up inside her. “Itwaskind of hard to be quiet,” she agreed.

He shifted off her and they settled beneath the warmth of the duvet, curling into each other. He pressed his cheek against the top of her head and she felt his smile.

“What do you want for Christmas?” he asked her long moments later.

---