Page 16 of Falling for the Single Dad Firefighter

I reach up to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw. "I'm sure. I want this. I want you."

That's all the permission he needs. He enters me slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size. The stretch is intense, bordering on discomfort, but then he pauses, allowing my body to relax around him.

"You feel incredible," he groans, his control evident in the tension of his arms, the careful restraint of his movements.

When he's fully seated within me, we both take a moment to adjust to the sensation. I've never felt so full, so completely joined with another person. It's overwhelming in the best possible way.

Samuel begins to move, slow, deep thrusts that have me gasping with each roll of his hips. He watches my face intently, learning what brings me pleasure, adjusting his angle when something makes me moan particularly loudly.

"More," I urge, wrapping my legs around his waist to draw him deeper.

He complies, his pace increasing, the force of his thrusts growing more insistent. The headboard begins to knock gently against the wall, a rhythmic counterpoint to our ragged breathing and soft sounds of pleasure.

I lift my hips to meet each thrust, feeling another climax building deep inside. Samuel must sense it too, because he slips a hand between us, his fingers finding my clit and circling it in time with his movements.

"Come for me again," he urges, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "I want to feel you come around me."

His words combined with the dual sensation of his cock stretching me and his fingers working against my most sensitive spot push me over the edge for a second time. This orgasm is even more intense than the first, radiating outward from my core in waves that have me crying out his name.

As I clench around him, Samuel's rhythm falters, his thrusts becoming more erratic. With a deep groan, he follows me over, his body shuddering against mine as he finds his release. The feeling of him pulsing inside me prolongs my own pleasure.

For long moments afterward, we remain connected, both breathing heavily. Samuel's weight is a comfortable pressure above me, his forehead resting against mine.

When he finally moves to slip out of me, I make a small sound of protest that makes him chuckle softly.

His arm wraps around my waist, drawing me against the solid warmth of his chest. I curl into him instinctively, my head finding the perfect spot in the crook of his shoulder.

"You okay?" he asks softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my bare hip.

I tilt my head to look up at him, finding his expression serious but tender. "More than okay."

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes my heart skip. "Me too."

We lie in comfortable silence, our breathing gradually syncing. Outside, a car passes by, its headlights briefly illuminating the room before returning us to the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Reality begins to creep back in—the awareness of who we are, what this means, what complications might follow.

But for now, in the warmth of Samuel's bed, with his heartbeat steady under my palm, I choose to set those concerns aside. Tomorrow will bring what it will. Tonight, I am exactly where I want to be.

Samuel pulls the covers over us, tucks me against his side as if we've done this a hundred times before, and presses a kiss to my forehead. The simple gesture holds more tenderness than I expected, and I feel myself softening further into his embrace.

"Stay," he murmurs against my hair. It's not quite a question, not quite a command.

"For a while," I agree, knowing I should return to my own apartment before morning. Before Mia returns. Before we have to face the reality of what we've begun.

Chapter 6 – Samuel

I wake before my alarm, awareness seeping in gradually—the warmth of another body pressed against mine, the subtle scent of vanilla, the soft, even breathing of someone deep in sleep. For a moment, I'm not sure where I am, and then it all rushes back.

Rebecca.

She's curled against my side, one arm draped across my chest, her face nestled in the crook of my neck. Her curls tickle my chin, a wild tangle from sleep and last night's activities. The memory of those sends a rush of warmth through me.

Early morning light filters through the blinds, painting stripes across the bedding. The clock on my nightstand reads 5:47—almost time for my alarm. I allow myself these few minutes of quiet, savoring the unfamiliar but welcome weight of Rebecca against me.

It's been so long since I've woken up with someone.

Now here she is, warm and real and breathing softly against my skin.

I should be panicking. Overthinking. Planning our careful exit strategy before Mia comes home from my mother's later this morning. Instead, I feel oddly calm, as if some piece that's been missing has finally clicked into place.

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