She’s so responsive. So hot.

One more. And then another.

“Keep coming,” I order. “Come until you can’t take it anymore.”

“Yes. I’m coming. Fuck, I’m coming!”

Another climax rolls through her. Another. Another.

Until—

“Stop. Can’t…” she whimpers.

“You can,” I say. “You will.”

I finger fuck her faster, suck harder on her clit, determined to keep pulling out climaxes.

“Can’t…”

“You can,” I growl against her pussy.

One more. Just one more, and then I can fuck her.

One more, Ashley.

But she lies limp. I’ve drained her. Drained her of all her pleasure.

Now it’s time to take mine.

I’m hard as a steel beam as I crawl upward over her body, hover for a moment, letting the head of my cock slide against her slick folds.

Then I thrust.

I burn through her, completing her body with my own.

Even though she’s wet and used up, she’s still tight as a virgin. Her walls encase my cock, and I hold it there for a few seconds, reveling in our completeness.

But my cock has a mind of its own, and soon I pull out and plunge back in.

Again, again, again…

A fast fuck. A hard fuck.

A fuck that takes what I ache for.

I don’t last long.

After five strokes, my balls are tingling, itching to let go.

I don’t resist.

I don’t resist because I know I’ll be ready to go again soon.

Always ready to go again with Ashley.

The climax blazes through me, sending my nerves skittering and my flesh tingling.

All of me. All of me in all of Ashley.

I hold myself inside her, letting the waves crash through me, letting my mind be silent, if only for these few precious moments.

The silence. The golden silence of only pure emotion without words or thoughts—born of a climax inside the woman I love.

This is peace.

If only it were everlasting.

When my release finally subsides, I roll onto my back, my soiled hair slick with sweat and falling into my eyes.

Ashley lies quietly, her eyes closed.

She’s used.

So very beautifully used.

What time is it, anyway? Well after midnight, I imagine.

I should get up. Shower. Wash the burn smell off my skin and out of my hair. My hands are dirty, black under my nails.

I touched Ashley with these dirty hands. Put these soiled fingers inside her perfection.

She deserved better.

What’s done is done…except I’m not done.

For now, though, I’ll let her sleep.

In the morning, she’s mine again.

And I’ll start over.

Chapter Twelve

Ashley

I wake to Penny’s nose nuzzling my cheek. Sunlight streams in through the windows in Dale’s bedroom. I jerk upward.

It’s late!

Dale lies next to me, naked and uncovered. His hair is tangled and knotted. His skin covered in soot.

I’m covered in soot from him.

I hardly care.

I touch his unshaven cheek, only lightly so as not to wake him. He needs to sleep. If he sleeps the day away, it still won’t be enough.

I sneak out of bed as quietly as I can and don a robe before heading to the kitchen to let Penny out while I get her breakfast ready.

Speaking of breakfast, I’m famished. Dale took me for quite a ride last night, and I can’t begin to imagine all the calories I burned. I’m craving carbs. No bacon and eggs for me today. Toast. Toast with some spiced peach jam. I grab the jar out of the fridge and throw two slices of white bread in the toaster.

It’s a brisk morning, but still, I take my plate of toast outside. The sun is shining through a haze of orange.

The fire may be contained, but it’s still burning. I grab my phone out of the pocket of the robe to check the weather forecast. Showers this afternoon.

Good. Rain is good. That will help put out the last of the fire.

I check a news feed on my phone to see what’s happening. This fire is small compared to most, which is why they were able to get containment so quickly. Another good thing.

Except it wasn’t small enough to stay away from Dale’s Syrah.

How much was harvested before the fire? Enough for Dale to create his old-vine wine?

I hope so. I hope with all my heart.

I polish off my toast, grab Penny’s empty bowl, and head back inside. Does Ryan have work for me today? I feel like a bum for sleeping in so late. It’s nearly eight o’clock.

I text him quickly.

His response is immediate.

Stay home. Take care of Dale today.

Good enough. Normally I’d balk at not working, but today? After what Dale’s been through? I need to be with him.

One problem.

He’s going to wake up eventually, and he may decide he needs to be alone again.

In which case, I’ll let him be alone.

I can’t try to hold Dale. If I squeeze my fist around a handful of sand, some of it escapes. If I hold it in the palm of my hand without squeezing so hard, it stays put.

Dale isn’t like a handful of sand, though.

No matter how much leeway I give him, he’ll leave if he wants to be alone. I can’t make him want to be with me.

I have no doubt of his love, but I have even less doubt of that need inside him to be alone at times.

I have to let him be the man he is.

I need a shower, but I don’t want to wake Dale, so I sneak into the master bath, grab my supplies, and head into one of the guest rooms to take care of things. Once clean and fresh, I head back to the kitchen to tidy up the breakfast mess. The drip coffeemaker beckons. Should I start a pot for Dale?

No. I want him to sleep.

I take my phone into the family room to check emails, when it buzzes.

Hmm. I don’t recognize the number.

“Hello?”

“Ashley?” A man’s voice. It’s familiar.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s Brendan.”

It takes me a second to remember Brendan Murphy, even though we shared a bottle of Château Latour a few days ago. A lifetime seems to have passed since then.

“How are you?” I ask.

“I’m good. I called to see how you’re doing. I heard about the fire taking out some of the Steel vines.”