30. Cole

My hands kneadedBailey's ass as I guided her up and down in measured strokes. The tips of my fingers dug into her firm flesh as I watched myself disappear inside her body. Despite my color blindness, I'd always been a visual person. Watching her ride me skyrocketed me toward my release.

Trying to hold off, I closed my eyes, but that didn't help. In my mind, I saw Bailey on her knees between my legs. The sight of her using my cock to tease her breasts would forever be burned into my memory. It was one of the hottest things I'd ever seen. It had taken me by surprise, and I'd loved every second of it. I'd loved it almost too much. Before she'd started sucking me off, I'd already been ready to explode.

Thankfully, I'd held on to enjoy her taking me deep in her mouth, but not for long. I'd needed the real thing. I needed to be inside her body like I was now.

Her body sank onto me as her breasts hung inches from my face. Not able to resist, I sucked one nipple into my mouth. My tongue laved her beaded nub before my teeth sank into it. She gasped at the sting of the bite. Her back arched as her tight canal pulsed wildly around my shaft. She fisted her hands in my hair. The sting from my scalp shot straight to my groin, increasing the pressure that was building.

"That feels so good," she whimpered as her inner walls spasmed. "You feel so good."

I continued sucking her nipples into my mouth, licking and biting the tips. Her hands roamed over my head, shoulders, and neck.

As she rode me, I could feel her tight canal begin to milk me faster, and I knew that she was on the brink of coming. To help her along, I slid a hand between us and flicked the pad of my thumb across her swollen clit.

The second it made contact, her body clamped down on me, and her fingers fisted even tighter in my hair. Her thighs trembled as her release claimed her. She let out a soft cry as she collapsed against my chest, burying her face in the crook of my shoulder. Her hips rolled against me, grinding seductively as she rode out her aftershocks.

I loved the feeling of her breath against my neck. I loved the weight of her body on my lap. I loved the soft brushing of her hair against my shoulder. I loved the touch of her hands as she explored me. I loved all of it. All of her. I loved being with her. Not just because our chemistry was so intense and the sex was so good. It was more than that. It was more than physical.

Her heart pounded wildly against my chest, and the beats lined up with my own. We were in perfect sync. We shared something that I'd never shared with anyone else. There was an intimacy, a connection, a bond that was indescribable yet so tangible I was surprised it wasn't visible to the naked eye.

Once her body relaxed, I briefly considered asking her if she wanted me to take over but decided just to take matters into my own hands. Literally. I gripped her backside as I stood and took two large strides to cross the room while I was still inside of her.

I crawled onto the bed and laid her down gently on the mattress as I hovered above her. My forearms rested on either side of her head, caging her beneath me. Her eyes closed as I began to move in and out of her body. The friction of our intimate union caused an urgency to surge inside of me.

"Look at me," I instructed roughly.

When her lids opened, I knew it was just in my head, but I saw the brilliant green color of her eyes. It wasn't real, I knew that. Bailey hadn't cured my damaged retinas. But something happened when I was with her. Something magical.

And she felt it, too. I didn't need to hear her say it. I could feel it in the way she touched me. I saw it in the way she looked at me. I heard it in both her voice when she spoke and in the volume of our silence. It was in the air. It was all around us. It was an intangible tangible.

Her hands gripped my upper arms as I continued to pull back and then sink inside of her, over and over again. Slowly, inch by inch, I took my time making love to her. As much passion as I felt, I refused to let it rush me. Tonight wasn't about the finish line. Tonight was about prolonging every second, every millisecond we had together.

Every atom in my body was singing with awareness as I thrust in and out. Her hips moved with me in perfect timing. When we were together, it was like we were tuned into a unique frequency.

Beads of sweat formed on the back of my neck as we made love. Ecstasy came in waves, crashing onto the shore and then getting drug back out to sea by the tide. Each time, I thought it was going to be the one that took me out, but each time, the intensity ebbed and then flowed back.

Our eyes remained locked, and I watched as her mouth opened in a silent cry as her orgasm overtook her. I tried to hold out and keep up the rhythm to draw out her release, but once her walls began to spasm around me, I lost it.

My entire body seized with pleasure as I drove into her one final time. The muscles in my thighs, back, and arms tensed in that last surge. She clung to me as her body squeezed every last drop of my seed from me.

Once we were both recovered, I got up and went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When I returned to the bed, I laid down on my back and pulled her next to me. She curled against my side and rested her head on my chest.

We lay in silence, and I listened closely to her breathing patterns, hoping she wouldn't fall asleep. I didn't want this night to be over so soon. I had a lot more plans for her.

Her head lifted, and she rested her chin on my chest. "Thank you."

"For what?" If she was thanking me for the two orgasms, then it was premature because I wasn't done with her.

"For this weekend… for everything."

I brushed a strand of hair off her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. "I should be the one thanking you. This was…" I didn't quite know how to put into words what the past forty-eight hours had meant to me.

As I tried to articulate what I was feeling, a sad smile lifted on her lips.

"What?" I asked as I raked my fingers through the silky strands of her hair. "What's wrong?"

"I just, I sort of feel like Cinderella at the ball, and tomorrow, when we go back to the city, the clock strikes midnight, and this is all over."

I wanted to argue with her. I wanted to tell her that she was wrong and that this wasn't over; it would never be over. But if the past five years had taught me anything, it was that what I wanted—what anyone wanted—didn't matter.

Sara hadn't wanted her husband to get sick and die. She hadn't wanted to get sick and have her life changed forever. People didn't always get what they wanted or what they deserved.

In my heart, I knew that Bailey was right. Tomorrow, when we returned to the city, the magic would be gone. Reality was the antidote for the spell that we'd been under.

Even after I got my contractor's license and was able to stop moonlighting as a plus one, my living situation wasn't going to change overnight. She already had an issue with my age. Me sleeping on a couch wasn't going to help with that.

And the biggest of all the obstacles was still there—my familial commitments. Even when I was able to move us to a bigger place, nothing was going to change my responsibility to Sara and the kids. There was no way I'd ever ask anyone who was coming into my life to take that on.

If tonight was all we had, then I was going to make it the best night I could. A night that would carry us through the rest of our lives. A night we'd remember forever.