“I need you,” I whisper against his vagina-flavored lips.

On the next pass down he goes in a little farther. “How much of me?”

“All of you.” I’m not actually just referring to his Super MC, though I’d be more than happy to hug all of him. I’m referring to the entire package of gorgeous, sexy, NHL-playing, sometimes insecure, sensitive, alpha, polite, and thoughtful man.

Alex must sense this, because his eyes stay on mine as he eases inside, inch by mind-numbingly amazing inch. We both whore-moan. It feels so good to be full of him.

“I love you.” He strokes along the side of my neck.

“I love you back.” I nibble on his bottom lip.

He kisses me. It’s soft and warm, full of all the things I need: love, tenderness, and desire.

Neither of us does any hip shifting. I sit with my legs spread wide, topped up with Super MC, while we make out. Eventually Alex breaks the connection between the lips on our faces.

His nose brushes my cheek, and he breathes me in. “I’m gonna fuck you now, is that okay?”

“So okay.” I flex the beave, hugging his dick tightly.

He chuckles, then grabs my ass with his free hand. We both look down to watch as he eases out. The recessed lights overhead make his cock glisten. I get a glimpse of the ridge, and then he pushes back in.

At first I think maybe he’s lost the desire for the hard fuck, but then I realize he’s just warming me up. After four more slow strokes, Alex releases the back of my neck and puts a hand on the center of my chest, right between my boobs. I lie back on the counter again.

He runs both hands up my sides and palms my breasts. “I can’t believe I’ve ignored these.” He leans over me and kisses each nipple, sucking one and then the other. I run my fingers through his hair and try not to grip too tight as he starts up a hard grind. I’m slammed with another orgasm.

Alex straightens, grabs my hips, and then he rams me. It’s the fuck of the ages. He goes from slow to vigorous in an instant, pumping hard. When he can’t get the leverage he wants, he grabs both of my ankles and rests them on his left shoulder, pulling me right to the edge and fucking me like we’re making a porno.

God, he’s hot. His muscles strain, his biceps and forearms flexing. When that’s not enough for him—or maybe he’s not feeling like he can get deep enough, or he’s not close enough, who knows—he shifts my legs to the right, changing the angle. Then he puts his knee up on the counter and covers my body with his.

It’s a weird position, particularly since we’re on the island and both of us can’t really fit up here. Not that I’m going to complain. I’m on orgasm number sixty-five million, so it can be as awkward as Alex is comfortable with. I’m definitely going to have a few sore spots tomorrow, though. Which is also okay.

Alex keeps pounding away, and we migrate up the counter until my head is hanging over the edge again. Alex, being the considerate man he is, even in the middle of our fuck-a-thon, cradles the back of my head so I don’t have to hold it up.

“Look at the window,” I manage to rasp between moans.

“What?”

“The window, it’s like a mirror.” I let go of one of his shoulders so I can point behind us.

Alex lifts his head, and his rhythm falters for half a second. He breathes out a fuck, and suddenly I’m rearranged so one of my legs rests on his shoulder and the other is wrapped around his waist. And then he’s back to pounding, his attention divided between our reflection in the window and me. It’s a good thing it’s treated glass, otherwise those living nearby would be getting a whole lot more neighborly love than they anticipated.

The sex seems to go on forever. Alex must have jacked off while I was out.

When he comes, it’s on a guttural groan that includes my name. He collapses on top of me, his lips on my neck, his back expanding with each hard pant. I can feel his heart beating furiously against my boob.

We’re disgustingly sweaty. My hair is wet around my temples, and my forehead is damp. I’m pretty sure I just felt sweat drip in my ass crack.

It’s awesome.

16

Now I Get

Why the Evasion

ALEX

Violet smells like lavender and sweat. And I feel like I’ve been on a breakaway that lasted an hour. It really doesn’t take me long to lose endurance anymore. But now that I have the green light from my doctor, I’m going to work on getting that back as often and as quickly as possible.

I’m still inside Violet. I’m also lying on top of her, and I’m not doing much to prevent her from bearing the full brunt of my weight. Every breath she takes is accompanied by a moan and a small clenching of her pussy around my cock, which is part of the reason I’m not moving yet.

Her right ankle is beside my ear. Her other foot drops to the counter with a low thud. I pretty much have her pretzeled in half. On a slab of granite. Christ, I’m an asshole.

Favoring my left arm, I push up to survey the damage I’ve done to my fiancée. Her lips are red and puffy, her bangs are sticking to her forehead, and her mascara is smudged under her eyes.

I caress her cheek, furtively rubbing away a black smear. I really did a number on her. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes roll down. She looks drunk. “Am I okay?” She sounds drunk, too.

I puff out a breath. “That was…I shouldn’t have. I was just…” I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I think I feel bad because it was so good to finally be the one in control again.