“No.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head. No, we’d never taken it that far. I should have been concerned Jaxon was asking me this, but it felt okay in the moment. Like it was essential for him to know how much I’d reserved for him.

“You gonna kiss another man again?”

“No.”

“Make me believe it.”

I searched his eyes in the darkness, and what looked back at me was an ardent need in him that bordered primal. Continuing to rock against him, I breathlessly repeated, “I will never kiss another man again. I want you. Just you. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

When he pushed another finger inside of me, I nearly lost it right then and there. I tilted my head up, eyes open, taking in the web of leaves overhead, while my senses magnified with his every stroke. I felt his tongue up my neck, his small bites along my jaw-line as he worked me long and slow. I tightened my hold around his neck, begging him silently to give me my release.

The roughness pressed against my spine disappeared suddenly. Jaxon was walking backwards, still stroking me, still working me hard; my head spun, aching for him to go faster. He knew my triggers and he was purposely prolonging it.

The second he reached the steps, he tugged my shirt over my head and threw it on the ground. My bra went off next. He grunted in appreciation, burying his face into my breasts. I spasmed when he bit and sucked my nipples, swirling his tongue in between. Glorious jolts of pleasure flowed to the pit of my stomach. I tangled my hands into his hair and gripped him hard, lolling my head to the side as he left marks around my breasts.

“You’re so fucking drenched,” he groaned, removing his hand from my jeans. I whimpered softly at this evil act, like a child whose lolly had been torn from their hands.

“I can’t wait anymore. Take me now,” I demanded, but even I knew it sounded more like a plea than anything else.

He gripped me tighter and slowly eased us down, inclining until his back was against the rough, wooden stairs. I fell into him.

Kissing.

Licking.

Biting.

I hurriedly unclothed him, and felt myself weaken when I pulled his jeans down off of him. Holy shit, he was hot. He was sex and love and pure heaven.

And he was mine. All mine.

I shimmied out of my loose jeans, throwing them without a care behind me. I kissed him hard, moving my hands along his hard abs and solid chest. He grabbed my ass and grinded me against his hardened length.

“See what you do to me?” he panted against me. “I can’t control myself.”

I felt him at my entrance and closed my eyes, waiting for him to plunge into me. The anticipation killed me. I wanted it hard. I wanted him inside of me in just one quick thrust.

He slowly eased in, torturing me and watching my pained pleasure with open fascination. I stared into his eyes, holding my breath as I remembered all the nights he filled me up like this.

This was perfection.

This was completion.

I moaned as he kissed my inner walls, seating himself all the way in. He stilled, and we said nothing for the longest time.

Just feeling. Yeah, we were just feeling each other. Feeling him inside of me like he always belonged there and it felt like home.

“I’m marrying you,” he hoarsely pronounced. “You’re taking my name.”

I gaped at him. And then I kissed the ever loving shit out of him. My lips trembled against his. I coated his face with my tears and he held me tightly against him with an arm around my back.

I didn’t want it hard and fast anymore. I didn’t want to get fucked. I wanted it slow and soft. I wanted to make love.

He sensed my need and obliged, thrusting in and out at a tender speed. He cherished me on those steps, stroking me and kissing me. He prolonged my peak by building my pleasure and slowing it down again. My body could no longer take anymore. My skin broke out in shivers as I clutched him hard against me and exploded. I hadn’t felt a release in so long, and it washed over me like the blinding light of morning – a boundless inevitability that I had no control over, seizing me in a temporary bubble of heaven before it washed away into mild contentedness. My lips quivered against his as I came down from my high.

Then I just… plopped there against his chest, like a bag of bones. The energy was zapped right out of me, leaving me feeling like a cloud in the air, floating away…

But he was still hard inside of me. I could feel him pulse with the need to continue.

“These stairs are giving my ass a cramp,” he muttered.

I smiled into his chest. “I can imagine.”

He slowly stood up, careful to keep me still against him. I brushed my hands through his hair and kissed his nose and the border of his face as he ascended up the porch and into the cabin. He returned the gesture, kissing both of my eyes and then the slope of my nose.

I didn’t realize how cool it’d been outside until we were enfolded in the warmth of the cabin. Jaxon carried me as if I weighed light as a feather to the bed and set me down. He pulled out of me and turned me around on my stomach. I was still blissfully content from my orgasm when he began kissing up my legs, brushing his hands over my ass and up my spine.

“Beautiful. You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

I felt revered, worshipped. I didn’t deserve to be so well cared for. I felt his love in every caress, and I remember thinking, I’m never getting out of this bedroom. Because the outside world was a terrible place; an unpredictable mess of choices and consequences filled with lies and deceitful people willing to tear you apart for their own selfish reasons. And in this bedroom, away from reality, was our world, and it was filled with love and soft kisses and tender moments that brought to the forefront the purpose of our life: each other.

Still flat against the mattress, he spread my legs apart. I felt his body heat envelope me as he pressed his chest against my back. Then I felt his tip at my entrance, and I shut my eyes serenely as he slowly eased himself back in.

“Fuuuck,” he moaned, his face hovering inches above my shoulder. He kissed my shoulder blades and slid a hand down my stomach and to my clit. He massaged me as he moved in and out of me, and the intensity of both acts felt like I was being licked by fire; a painful pleasure that burned and faded and burned again.

“Don’t stop,” I begged, breathing erratically against the sheets moistened by my open mouth. “Please, please, please.”

He moved faster within me, and each thrust forced my lower body to press against his hand that circled deliciously around my centre. I held my breath and felt my world implode; the second orgasm rippled rapturously within, feeling as though it were trying to find a way out until I sucked in a breath again, momentarily suspended in an aphrodisiac wonderland. I could do this again and again for I still felt aroused beyond measure soon after…