Page 63 of One Night Forsaken

I fist her hips before rocking my own. Desperate moans and labored breaths fill the air. Nails dig into the flesh of my pecs as she pushes up and rocks her hips, giving me more of her weight. My fingers bruise her flesh and she glides back and forth, back and forth. Each time we’re together like this, we tease with bare skin until I inevitably roll on a condom.

But the time for teasing is over.

One hand firmly on her hip, the other drifts up the curves of her torso and cups her breast. Pinching her nipple. Her back bows and I tighten my grip. Sitting up, I take her nipple in my mouth and suck. Bite the tender flesh enough to elicit a throaty moan from her. Both hands on her hips, I lick and suck and nip my way up until my lips crush hers. Cheeks spread in my grip, I grind her faster, harder against my cock.

“Need to feel you. All of you. With nothing between us.”

Her hands glide over my shoulders and up the back of my neck. Fingers fist the length of my hair and yank back. Hard. Tongue darting out, she licks my bottom lip.

“I’m on the pill and clean.”

I groan as she rocks forward. “I-I’m clean too.”

On the next roll of her hips, I shift just enough to bump her entrance with my tip. As if neither of us is prepared for what happens next, we pause. Her fingers in my hair go slack as her hands drift to cup my cheeks. I band my arms around her waist and hold her in place. She drops her lips to mine and kisses me with unprecedented tenderness. Warmth radiates from my rib cage and I moan for an entirely new reason. A reason that has me wanting to stay. A reason I can’t seem to shake. Her.

As she deepens the kiss, I pin her in place and rock up into her. Gasps fill the air as the pads of her fingers bruise my cheeks and I tighten my hold on her.

“So fucking perfect,” I whisper against her lips. As her hips move, my eyes roll shut. “Damn, firecracker.” I open my eyes and suck her bottom lip between my lips. Bring one hand to the back of her neck and drop the other to her tailbone. “Like you were meant for me.”

Resting her forearms on my shoulders, she rolls her hips. Slow for two strokes. Then she moves faster. Glides up and down my cock, jaw slack, and eyes the darkest shade of blue as they hold me captive. The middle finger of my lower hand slithers down her ass crack until I graze her puckered hole and press lightly.

“Braydon, I—”

“Won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” I add a little more pressure and on the rock of her hips, she pushes into the touch. “More than perfect.”

She crushes my lips with hers, the kiss as ravenous as our fused bodies. The faster our rhythm, the more she accepts my finger. Breaking the kiss, she throws her head back and gasps. She grips my shoulders, my neck, my hair as her tight pussy strokes my cock, again and again. As her ass begs for more than a knuckle and a half.

And then I feel it. The slow constriction of her walls around my cock. I pump my finger faster, deeper as skin slapping skin echoes off the walls. Pain shoots through my scalp as she all but rips my hair out. It only makes my hips piston faster.

“Oh, god,” she moans out.

I shift my finger inside her. “Let go, firecracker.” Above me, she shudders as her body grips mine like a vise. “That’s my good girl.” Eyes on her flush cheeks and neck, on the next rock of my hips, I come undone. And damn, is it unlike anything I have ever experienced.

What just happened was more than mind-blowing sex. Alessandra gave me something I never truly had in previous relationships. Her trust.

And fuck, it is heady and addictive and magnificent.

“What if I don’t want you to go?”

God, those words are music to my ears. “Believe me, firecracker, I don’t want to leave.” I lean over the table and press a chaste kiss to her lips. Take her hand in mine and lace our fingers. “But I need to at least check in with my dad. Do a few small things at the office.”

“I get it.” Her bottom lip pushes out. “Don’t like it, but I get it.”

She sips on her lavender tea latte while I cut the pancakes on my plate to share with her. Not that we generally eat off the same plate, but I will miss these moments. Me coming into the café every morning, sitting outside on the patio, having time with her—whether for five minutes or thirty.

What choice do I have?

Not like I can uproot my life. Even if I did, is it responsible to do something so drastic after knowing someone for such a short time? The connection I share with Alessandra is undeniable. But what if I change my entire life to be with her and our relationship—are we in a relationship?—fizzles out? I would have nothing to fall back on. Sure, I could crawl back to Dad and he would help. But I don’t want it to be over losing someone. Not again.

An idea sparks and claws at my insides. Before I lose courage, I blurt out, “Want to try a long-distance thing?”

Alessandra looks up from our joined hands with wide eyes. “W-what?”

The slow-forming knot in my stomach twists. “Well, kind of long distance. An hour apart should be more like an annoying distance.” I scratch the scar in my brow. “I don’t want to leave. You don’t want me to leave. What if we ease into a relationship?”

Her brows knit together as she nibbles her bottom lip. “How would it work?”

Good question. My schedule is more flexible than hers, but there are stretches of time when I’m away to capture the next story. I love traveling, seeing the state, and writing stories that drive others to visit places they never knew existed. Every two to three years, the magazine writes about places outside of Washington but no more than a two-hour drive from the border.

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