Everywhere I look are white walls adorned with bright artwork in bright greens and blues and purples and windows that must turn this place into a sun-drenched haven during the day.

I give a low whistle. “Wow,” I say, turning to Shira, “your home is amazing.”

Mischief dancing in her eyes, she seizes my hands and leans close, teasing. “You’re just saying that to get in my pants.”

“I absolutely do want to get in your pants. But I’m saying it because it’s true.” I sweep another gaze over the cozy but impeccably styled rooms. “It’s not just app design you have a talent for.”

She leans against the back of a couch. My cock twitches again. It would be so easy to flip her around, bend her over, and take her right here and now.

And maybe one day I might. But tonight, I want to take my time.

“Want to see the bedroom?” she says, biting her bottom lip.

I groan, watching her teeth dig gently into her fleshy lip. “God, yes.”

She leads me into the kitchen. There’s a hidden staircase I couldn’t see from the living room climbing up to a second floor. No, not another floor, I realize as I ascend. It’s an airy loft space, the ceiling sloping down on either side of us to the wood-plank floorboards.

Again, there are wide windows and white walls decorated with colorful prints and ornaments. In the center of the room stands a teal-painted bed with a headboard that reaches halfway up the wall. It’s made up with gold and cream-colored blankets and pillows, with one coral pillow in the center of the rest as an accent.

Matching wood nightstands stand sentinel on either side of the bed, holding lamps and carefully potted succulents and more stacks of books. A navy rug with bright leaves and flowers unfurls across the floor. The far end of the room leads to a bathroom that’s all shining white fixtures.

It’s gorgeous, all of it.

But not as gorgeous as Shira, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and opening her legs wide to me. I can see her turquoise panties I touched but hadn’t yet seen peeking out at me, and the large wet spot that’s the evidence of her arousal.

With a growl, I close the space between us and, laying her down on the mattress, drape my body over hers. Our forms, so different to look at and feel, fit together perfectly.

My hardness nestles between her thighs, nudging at the place where they meet. I circle my hips, grinding into her. I know I’ve hit the right spot when she throws her head back, the vulnerable expanse of her neck exposed, and wraps her legs around my waist.

“Wait,” she gasps, pushing me off. “Too many clothes.”

Shit. She’s right. There are far too many layers of fabric separating us.

We both stumble to our feet and, with trembling hands, help each other out of our clothes.

A moment later we are naked, our eyes exploring each other’s bare forms. And even though countless club patrons have paid good money to see me with little more on than I currently have, I’ve never felt so tender, so exposed.

But when I gaze into Shira’s green eyes, somehow I know I can trust her. I know that all of me is safe with her.

Taking her in my arms, feeling her unfettered breasts brush against my chest for the first time, my rigid length stabbing into her belly, I kiss her with all the feeling I possess.

Shira

I’m melting.

My body, Laurent’s body — there is no longer a clear delineation between what is him and what is me. There is only us, touching, teasing, melding, becoming one organism, one entity.

He is inside me, filling me in that wholly unique way a man can fill a woman. I’m slick, ready. My back arches to claim more of him, for more depth, more sensation, more ecstasy.

Locking my ankles around his low back, I urge him to slide into me faster, harder. I’m cracked open by his touch, but I can’t get all that I want of Laurent fast enough.

Nibbling my jaw, he complies with my unuttered request. His gentleness falls away. Now he is power and sweat and muscle. Our groans gather in the sanctuary of my bedroom, tangling just as our bodies are.

Without warning, he withdraws, flips me onto my belly, and re-sheaths himself in my velvet folds. I cry out in surprise, then again as I realize how much farther he can reach into me with my chest on the bedspread and my ass in the air. It’s an entirely new level of pleasure.

Reaching a hand between my quivering thighs, I find my cleft. I work my pleasure center furiously, keeping pace with Laurent’s rhythm. He palms my buttocks, digging his strong fingers into my ample flesh.

Between that and his length driving so deep into me and my work on my clit, I explode. My orgasm travels from my abdomen, down and down, every muscle clamping and pulsing until, at last, my vulva is as well.