“That’s it, beautiful. You feel so incredible. This pussy was made just for me,” he groans out.
I’ve never been so easily manhandled, and it’s so satisfying. He maneuvers my legs up so he can flip us over, so I’m lying on top of him now. Our sweat-slicked skin is the only thing that keeps time, and shows how long we’ve been lost in each other. He wasn’t joking about taking his time and I’m not sure how he’s held himself together this long. I’ve already come apart countless times, each more intense than the last.
I sit up and grind down on him slowly, rolling my hips so he has no choice but to hit the deepest parts of me. He watches my body, his face intent and hungry, as he gives me the lead to control the pace. His need to come apart soon is starting to seep through. The resolve he’s built to keep this going is fading fast, and I can tell that he’s more than ready to come. The tightness of his jaw, the tilt of his chin upwards. “Everly, fuck. You’re so damn sexy.”
Tilting back, I give into one last sensation. I ride him so well that he hits even deeper, and I start to unravel all over again, only this time he’s right there with me, and we ride out our orgasms together. The feeling of it is so consuming and overwhelming that tears sting my eyes and start to roll down my cheeks. We lie there together. I’m on top of him, unable to move, only able to feel the wake of emotions quivering through me. Feelings that I won’t be able to articulate.
Jack quickly realizes and says, “Beautiful, no, no, no.” He shifts out from under me, with worry in his voice. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
I just shake my head, trying to find the words that can convey the magnitude of emotion that’s running through me. “I’ve never felt that. The lust and the love part together before. I didn’t know that it could be like that. The intensity of it, and I’m not even sure why I’m crying. But, oh God, Jack, please tell me we can make that happen again.” I smile through the tears.
He barks out a laugh and kisses my sweat-soaked neck. “I love you so much, beautiful. And yeah, we can make that happen again. I may need a minute or two, but I plan on doing that with you countless times.”
And we do. Countless times. We didn’t sleep that night, instead we showed each other how much we missed each other, respected each other's bodies, and craved one another’s touch. We talked until the night fled and the morning crept in.
When the sun started to peek from behind the mountains, it painted the sky with broad, exaggerated strokes in every shade of orange I could imagine. It was the first morning in our home, in the warmth of each other's arms, where we truly began loving each other. It was when color seeped into every part of my life that had been so rigidly black and white for so long. It’s when our love story really began.