Our lips don’t separate as he rolls, pulling me on top. I’m laid out above him, and I feel his touch everywhere. One hand coasts up my back, threading through my hair, and the other anchors my hips against the hard ridge of his cock. I buck against him, my body already going soft and wet for the only man who’s ever made me feel like a real woman. With Moses, I’m not an object, a toy, or a tool whose sole purpose is to get a man off.
With him, I’m my real self. I matter. My emotions, my thoughts, and my soul.
It took me years to be able to enjoy sex, because to me, it started out as a business transaction. But with Moses, it was never anything but exactly what it was meant to be—perfection in its own way.
He groans into my mouth, and I finally pull away.
Looking down at this gorgeous man, I say, “I need you. You probably want to take this slow and sweet, but I’m hard up, Moby. Fuck, it’s been forever, and I want you so fucking bad that I don’t have time for slow and sweet. I need this to happen now.”
“You’re gonna let me give it to you slow and sweet next, then. Because I want to savor you, mama. You deserve that.”
“Later,” I say, going for his shirt and dragging it up his muscular body.
He pushes up on his hands, allowing me to tug it from beneath him and yank it over his head. All that’s left is smooth, golden skin that speaks of his Creole heritage. I’ve never seen skin as beautiful as this man’s. My palms glide over his chest and the hard blocks of his abs.
“God, I love a man who takes care of himself,” I whisper.
“Pshhh,” he says as he reaches for the hem of my shirt. “I’m nothing. You, on the other hand, are a work of fucking art.” He slides the shirt over my head, and his eyes practically glow with appreciation of what’s beneath it. “These tits . . . Fuck, woman. Fucking perfect.”
I snort a laugh at that. “You can thank my surgeon for those. He’s the artist.”
Moses shakes his head. “Well, he ain’t here, so you’re just gonna have to listen to me tell you how fucking perfect you are.” His hands bracket my waist. “I can tell you put in the work too. You’re fit as fuck, mama.”
“Fit for fucking you,” I say, rocking against his hard cock as I tease him. “And, goddamn it, I need it.”
He lets me grind on him for a few more seconds before he flips us again. “Then you get what you need.”
My shorts are gone in a split second, and so are his. As soon as we’re both naked, it’s like someone has unleashed pure decadence.
We’re on each other, and our sole purpose is to feast. My lips skim over his pecs, sucking a nipple into my mouth and scraping it with my teeth. He moves me up, so he can do the same, sucking one into his mouth at a time. Wetness slicks between my legs, and I throw one over his hip to put his cock between my lower lips. As soon as I find friction against the rock-hard shaft, my body ignites.
“Oh, fuck yes. Oh God.”
“You gonna come just from bucking against my cock, mama? Because that’s hot as fucking hell.”
I’m already too far gone to answer him. My orgasm is right there, waiting for me to take it.
I grind harder until the pressure is too much, and I throw my head back and let out a scream. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Fuck, mama. Fuck.” Moses reaches between us and readjusts his cock, and I scream again.
“Hurry. Hurry. Now.”
With one hand gripping my hip, he slams home, filling me full with a single thrust. My body welcomes him, despite being out of practice, and my inner muscles clamp down hard.
“Holy fuck, woman. Goddamn.” Moses sucks in a breath before he pulls back and pounds home again. Stroke after stroke, he unleashes more pleasure than I can handle.
I start coming, and I swear to Christ, I never stop.
Every thrust has me screaming unintelligible sounds, and all I know is that if this is what kills me, I’ll die a happy woman.
I lose track of time, space, earth, and everything else. All that exists is Moses and the insane waves of pleasure swamping me. My head thrashes from side to side, until one of his hands cups my cheek and he plants his mouth on mine.
“Never letting you go. Ever.”
My pussy clamps down so hard, surely it’ll strangle his cock. Moses’s mouth crushes against mine before he throws his head back with a roar I feel to the very marrow of my bones.
My body goes limp, and I let go, allowing the pleasure to drag me under one final time.
He’s even better than my memories, and here in the flesh, it’s bliss.
Fifty
Moses
My heart thunders in my chest, pounding so hard it might explode. My lungs burn like I’ve sprinted for a gold medal, and my lungs heave in breath after breath.
I don’t know what the fuck just happened in this bed, but it goes so far beyond sex, I can’t even explain it. It’s . . . like coming alive after being asleep for most of my life.
Energy buzzes across my skin and through my veins. I feel fucking invincible.
Beside me, Magnolia goes limp, and I pull her against my chest, not wanting any space between us. Her heart hammers in nearly perfect rhythm with mine as she fights to catch her breath.
I press my palm to her chest. “Slow and steady, mama. Slow and steady.”
She doesn’t open her eyes, but she follows my command, slowing her breathing from its frenetic pace.
“You killed me,” she whispers, letting her head loll to the side. “I . . . goddamn . . . what happened?”
A chuckle falls from my lips. “You happened. Jesus Christ. You’re . . . I don’t even know.” I need more oxygen before I can form coherent sentences. “Almost killed me too. But what a way to go.”
She snorts, and my lips twitch at the sound.
“Did you just snort?”
She does it again, and suddenly, we’re both laughing our asses off. That’s when I remember what it feels like to be happy.
We lie on top of the covers for a long time until the sweat on our skin begins to cool and Magnolia shivers.
“Here, I got you.” I tug the blanket out from beneath us and pull it over her body, curling mine around her to share my heat.
“You said something about food earlier, but . . .” She pauses to cover her mouth and yawn. “I’m gonna need a nap after that. Just a few minutes. I’ll be ready in just a few minutes.” And with that, her entire body relaxes, and she drifts off to sleep.
I hold her for two hours, never letting myself doze off, because I want to savor every moment of her in my arms. She’s the piece that’s been missing my whole life.
Fifty-One
Magnolia
It’s dark outside by the time we make it into the kitchen. I sit on a bar stool with a glass of wine in front of me, wearing Moses’s shirt and my shorts, watching as he chops onions, celery, and bell peppers—the holy trinity of Creole food.
“You sure you don’t want help? Because I’m a pretty damn good cook these days. I finally learned.”
He glances at me from across the island, his expression skeptical, but because he’s a smart man, he doesn’t say a word. I can, however, guess exactly what he’s thinking.