Page 116 of Once Smitten, Twice Shy

I release him with a pop and scramble up him.

He grins up at me as I lean down for a kiss. “Those were the magic words, huh?”

“So magical,” I pant into his mouth. “I need you. I need you now.” Pausing, I glance toward the headboard, then back to him. “Can we…Can we sit up? I want to see you. I want to be close that way, face-to-face.”

Will sits up, bringing me with him, then reaches behind him, propping the pillows against his headboard. He scooches back against them. “Like this?”

I crawl his way in answer, then press him back so he’s reclined a little against the pillows. Efficiently, I straddle his waist. It puts usat the perfect height, our faces lined up, just how I wanted. I lean in and kiss him tenderly. “This okay for you?” I ask.

“Juliet, you’re about to let me be inside you—you could ask me to stand on my head and I’d find it beyond okay.”

A laugh falls out of me as I kiss him again. “I love you,” I whisper.

And I love that I don’t even know exactly when it happened, not like it seems to in my favorite stories, when it’s some grand epiphanic moment. Falling in love with Will has been like slowly wading into water since the moment I saw him, and now I’m saturated, neck-deep in it, its power and beauty, our trust, and tenderness, and safety surrounding me.

Slowly, I lift up on my knees. I rub gently at my entrance, spreading my wetness, holding his eyes. Will sets his hands at my waist as I reach for him, as I guide him inside me. We both gasp as I sink down on him, as he fills me, so full, so exquisitely perfect.

“Jules,” he whispers, his voice breaking. He draws me closer by the hips until we’re touching, chest to chest, hearts pounding against each other. I kiss him tenderly as I roll my hips forward.

“I can’t do the up and down,” I admit quietly. “It hurts my hips. But I can do it like this.” I show him what I mean, rocking forward, then back. The flicker of an orgasm begins to warm in my belly, as my clit brushes his pelvic bone, as he pulls me even tighter against him.

He sighs against our kiss, wrapping his arms around my back, lower, over my ass. “I feel you,” he whispers brokenly. “I feel all of you. You’re so warm and tight, baby, so wet.”

“No Matthew McConaughey rom-com needed here,” I pant.

A hoarse laugh jumps out of him. “All right, all right, all right.”

I laugh, too, throwing my arms around his neck, kissing him deep and hard. Our laughs dissolve to groans.

With Will guiding my hips, I rock faster. My orgasm’s building furiously, stoked by his feathering kisses along my neck, his handwandering to my breast, kneading it and plucking at my nipple. “Close,” I whisper.

“I want it, Jules.” He squeezes my ass, moving me against him. “I want every needy little sound, every second of your pleasure. I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

I gasp at his words, at the orgasm spurred on by them as it knocks into me, making me do just what he asked, scream in pleasure as I tighten my legs around his hips, as I ride him hard and hasty, soaking up every wave of euphoria that I can.

Will groans as I move faster. His hips start to buck underneath me. His legs start to shake. “Baby,” he pants. “I’m gonna…Oh God—”

“I know,” I tell him, swallowing his moans, his rough, panting breaths, with a hard, bruising kiss. His tongue dances with mine. I drink in his harsh exhales against my mouth, feeling him swell even more inside me, feeling him stroke even deeper into my body.

He pulls away just enough to hold my eyes as his expression morphs from the edge of torturous pleasure to breathless bliss. I cup his neck, never breaking his gaze, as he grips my hip hard and thrusts up, frantic, until he stills, deep inside, and spills into me.

His eyes fall shut as he buries his face in my neck, his arms clutching me so tight, I feel his heart slamming in his chest, hammering against mine. He rolls his hips softly, erratic but easing, as if, like me, he’s greedy for every single moment of this, to make it last as long as possible.

Finally, he falls back onto the pillows, pulling me with him. We tip sideways, until we’re facing each other, a tangle of legs and arms, winded laughter as we sink back and slide in under the sheets.

Will stares at me as he draws me close. I set my hand over his racing heart and smile, sated, sleepy, so impossibly happy. “That was,” I whisper, pausing for a much-needed breath of air.

“Perfect,” he whispers. His hand comes to rest over mine, where it sits over his racing heart. He searches my eyes.

I shake my head, smiling.

“What is it?” he asks breathlessly.

I lean in and give him a loving, lasting kiss. “To think, we’re just getting started.”

He smiles against my kiss. And with that kiss, with his tender hands drawing me close, seeking me beneath the sheets, he tells me he’s right there with me—wide-eyed, wonderstruck by the road ahead of us, a road we’ll walk together, stretched out to the horizon.

Full of possibility.

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