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Grabbing her hair gently, I gruffly tell her, “Enough, baby. I’ve got a much better place for you to put my cock than your mouth.”

Pulling back, I sit back down on the end of her bed and scoot back just enough so she can climb on top of me and brace her knees on the bed. Then I help hold her steady as she hovers over my hard length that’s pointing straight up at her entrance.

Staring into her eyes, I need the truth from her. “You ready for this, Pixie? I want nothing between us as I come inside you. But if you’re not ready, I’ll understand.”

Her breath hitches before she whispers, “I’m ready, Trevor. I can’t wait to feel all of you filling me up. I want you hot inside me, not pulling out.” There is a hunger in her eyes like never before.

Grabbing my cock, I hold it steady and ready at her entrance as I tell her, “Slow, baby. I want you to take all of me in one slow motion.”

She does. First the head slides inside, and I’m already moaning at the feeling of her bare around me. Then she slides down my length little by little, both of us in awe of the sensation, until she’s sitting on my lap, panting with need. Knowing I don’t have to pull out, I am able to focus on the sensations and not my release.

We have had a lot of sex in the time we have been together. But taking it slow, committing it to memory, is a sensation like never before.

“Damn, I’ve never felt anything so good in all my life, woman.”

It’s the truth, and I can’t wait to feel it all. Me coming inside of her, filling her up with my seed, marking her as mine from the inside out.

I arch up so I can push up into her, and Pixie gasps and arches her back. Letting myself back down, I place my hands on her hips again.

“Ride me, sweetheart. Slide that pretty little ass of yours up and down my cock until I’m coming inside you.”

Pixie does. She rides me in a gradual motion, little by little, until she’s moving up and down more and more, driving us both wild. I can see the muscles in her thighs flexing as she leans back and braces her hands on my own thighs to remain steady as she picks up her pace a little. I can tell we are both riding that edge of release. So close, just a little more, and I’m going to explode inside of her.

We are both losing control, me lifting up into her, her slamming herself down on my length, until I feel that familiar tingle that lets me know I’m close.

I sit up so we are face to face. Her clit is hitting my pelvic bone, rubbing herself against me like a cat in heat. I fucking want her like this all the time—grinding against me, getting herself off. It’s the sexiest thing I have ever seen.

Finally, her walls clamp down on me, fluttering around my length in an orgasm as she cries out her pleasure.

Grabbing her face with both hands, I keep her eyes on mine as I start to lift my hips up into her, telling her what I have been waiting to say for a while now. “I love you, Paisley.”

The way her eyes glaze over both in pleasure and love sends me over the edge, and I let go, calling out her name as I come deeply inside for the first time.

We are clutching each other tightly as we pant to catch our breaths. I can feel her hand running up and down my sweat sheen covered back. My face is buried in the side of her neck, memorizing this moment. The smell, the way she feels—all of it. I don’t ever want to forget the day I told this woman I loved her for the first time.

I feel her lips against the shell of my ear. “I love you, too, Trevor Blake.”

They are the sweetest fucking words I have heard in my entire life, and I know without a doubt that this woman is meant to be my ol’ lady, my life and my love, for the rest of my days as I take on this ride called life.

~Paisley~

We sit on the couch together, me curled into his side, having a normal evening. Things with Trevor are good … Too good. It makes me anxious.

We watch television … Cable television. Trevor said he’s a man and needs sports. I love the man he is, so I can make changes for him.

“How many commercials do they have for depression and mental illness?” I ask, not necessarily to him, but more as an observation.

“Pixie, you okay?”

I sigh. “Yeah. I was just thinking about how, when my parents died, I battled depression.”


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