Page 115 of The Man I Hate

He peered down at me. “For another conversation?”

“No,” I replied. “It’s time to fuck.”

“Is it?”

I sat up. “It is.”

He kissed me.

The act had become so commonplace that it no longer took me by surprise. It didn’t make me appreciate it any less. Our kisses were special. Neither the passing of time nor the frequency of the embrace would change things. That much I knew.

As we kissed, I blindly fumbled along the thigh of his flannel pajamas until my fingers found the fly. I reached inside. He was aroused beyond measure.

It didn’t surprise me. When he kissed me deeply, I’d be soaking wet before we broke our embrace. It amazed me that something as simple as a kiss could evoke such emotion. Time after time, however, it did.

Eager for our lovemaking session to begin, I stroked his length. Sensing my desires, he pulled away.

He lowered both of us to the bed. With his chest pressed to mine, he kissed me deeply. I was dwarfed by his size. Yet. Beneath him I didn’t feel powerless.

I felt protected.

I spread my legs wide.

Lost in a sea of euphoria, my eyes fell closed. My hands groped and grabbed; my mind unwilling to accept that there was any one place that they should land. His back, arms, and chest were as firm as stone, yet his lips were as soft as butter.

His hips wedged between my thighs. We kissed like enthusiastic teens, savagely taking in each other’s taste and scent. Eager fingers explored places we had been too shy to find during the previous opportunities we had to do so.

His swollen tip penetrated me. Slowly, his length followed, one careful inch at a time. Glued to one another, we made love, neither of us willing to break the kiss.

On every occasion that we came up for air I stole a glance at his moonlit face, just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

His hips rowed back and forth rhythmically. His length explored places I had no idea I possessed. Each well-timed stroke pushed me closer to the brink.

His girth swelled. I clawed my nails into the flesh of his back. The pressure within me grew until I feared I’d explode into a million little pieces.

My ears began to ring. With each thrust of his hips our moans of pleasure became more distant, until they were almost unintelligible. Emotion cascaded over me like a waterfall, eventually encompassing me entirely.

Coinciding with his final thrusts, his satisfaction erupted into me. I sank my teeth into his lower lip, stifling the desire to scream my pleasure into the room. Frantically, my hands slapped against the bedding. Every muscle tensed. I’d reached the pinnacle. I clenched the fabric in my fists as if my life depended on it.

I clung to the cliff’s edge, uncertain if I could survive the fall.

Our eyes met. He buried his length into me fully, holding it in place while he gazed into my eyes. Prepared to meet my fate, I released the bedding.

Waves of euphoria rushed through me, each causing my entire body to shudder. Mentally, I screamed and shouted as I fell to earth, but no sound escaped me. When my mind returned, Braxton was laying at my side.

I gazed at the ceiling, incapable of doing much else. I now knew the difference between making love and fucking. I tilted my head to the side. He swept the hair away from my face with the tip of his finger.

“I love you,” he said.

My heart faltered.

I felt the same way but hadn’t expressed my feelings for fear of rejection. Now that the door had been opened, a flood of emotion rushed through me.

“I love you, too,” I said, the words coming on the heels of a breath that shot from my lungs.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Okay?” I laughed. “No. I’ll never be okay. Not after that.”