Her hands roam over my back, my shoulders, my arms, exploring every inch of me. Her breath coming in short gasps as I fill her completely. Her moans grow louder, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I can feel her getting closer, her body coiling tight like a spring.
“Look at me,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. Her eyes snap open, meeting mine. I want her to see me, to know who's bringing her pleasure, who's worshipping her body.
I increase my pace, my thrusts becoming deeper, harder. She clings to me as her body convulses with pleasure.
“Piers,” she cries out, her voice raw and desperate. “Oh god, Piers!”
I capture her lips in a fierce kiss, swallowing her cries as she climaxes. Her body trembles beneath me, her inner muscles pulsing, gripping me tightly. The sensation is overwhelming, and I can feel myself reaching the edge.
My own release is explosive, a surge of pleasure that sweeps through me like a tidal wave. I bury my face in her neck, my body shuddering as I spill into her. Her arms wrap around me, holding me close.
For a moment, we lie there, our bodies entwined. I can feel her heartbeat, her breath, her life force pulsing against me.
I finally find the strength to lift my head, looking down at her. Her eyes are closed, her lips curved in a soft smile. She looks peaceful, satiated.
I’ve just made love to this woman. But it’s not enough. I gather her into my arms. Her head rests against my shoulder, her body pliant and warm against mine.
“Where are we going?” she asks, her voice soft and drowsy.
“Upstairs,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I’m not done with you yet.”
I kick open the door to the master bedroom, barely noticing the grand four-poster bed that dominates the space.
This time, I need to fuck her.
I place her onto the bed, her skin almost camouflaging against the white sheets. She looks up at me with those pale green eyes, filled with a mix of vulnerability and eagerness.
I pull her to the edge of the bed. She shivers beneath my touch, her eyes never leaving mine. I'm terrified that if I blink, she'll disappear. That this moment, this connection we've found again, will slip through my fingers.
As I spread her legs apart and position myself at her entrance once more, I feel a primal need to claim her, to make her mine in every possible way. I lean down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. “Did you keep your promise?” I murmur, my voice rough and uneven. “Did you save yourself for me?”
The question hangs in the air. I pour everything into the kiss- longing, pain, hope- savoring the way she moans in my mouth.
She hesitates, then, slowly, she nods, “yes.”
Her confession sends a jolt through me, sharp and electric.
When I enter her again, it's with a sense of urgency, a need to drive home that I'm here, and that she's mine.
Fantasia’s hands grip the sheets as she whimpers, urging me deeper, harder. I respond in kind, my hips moving faster, my body driving into hers with a passion that's been bottled up for far too long. I lose myself in the feel of her around me.
With each thrust, I try to convey the depth of my feelings for her, the yearning that's been eating away at me since we were torn apart. The anger that I felt during our separation was like a living, breathing monster inside me, fueling my every action, driving me to keep going despite the pain. But beneath that anger was a desperate, aching need for her. A need to hold her, to love her, to be with her in every possible way.
“Yes!” Fantasia wails, her hips rocking to meet every thrust, as I slam into her with reckless abandon. The bed rocks and squeaks as the sound of skin slapping against skin mingles with our grunts and cries of pleasure filling the room. Fantasia claws at my back, urging me on.
I increase my pace, driving into her harder, deeper. Every push, every thrust, every pounding is a desperate attempt to ground her in the here and now, to make her see that I'm here, that I'm not going anywhere.
“You’re mine, Fantasia,” I grit out, my voice a low growl. “You’ve always been mine. And I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”
Her response is a whimper, a cry of passion and longing that cuts through me like a knife. I can feel her getting close, her body tightening as her muscles clamp down around me. Her breaths come in short, sharp gasps, her nails digging into my back. I increase my pace, my own need for her driving me onward, pushing me to the edge.
When her body finally shatters, her cries of release filling the air, I follow her over the edge. I pour myself into her, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash over me. We cling to each other, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths ragged. The world outside this cabin, outside this moment, ceases to exist. It's just us, real and completely exposed.
As we come down from our high, I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her and trying to ground her in the reality of us, of this moment. Her head rests against my chest, her breath warm on my skin. I can feel her heartbeat, her body warm and soft against mine.
Here she is, in my arms once more. The fragility of this moment isn’t lost on me. I know that in an instant, it could all disappear, that she could slip through my fingers like smoke. So I hold her tighter.
Eventually, Fantasia's breathing evens out, her body relaxing into sleep. I watch her for a while, marveling at the way her features soften in slumber, the way her dark lashes cast shadows on her cheeks. She's so beautiful, so strong, and yet so vulnerable. The urge to protect her, to keep her safe from everything and everyone, surges within me.