When Jesse lays me down on his bed, my heart is thumping. The shadow of my orgasm is still sending thrills coursing through my veins. My whole body feels like it’s a tightly coiled spring. If he touches me again, I’ll be hurling back into the abyss.

I kneel on the bed as Jesse stands beside it and I continue where I left off unbuttoning his shirt. When it’s open, I push it off his strong shoulders and run my fingers over his chest. My fingers brush the white scar on his left side and I bring my lips to it.

Kissing him gently, my hands drift down to his belt as he starts taking off my dress. He pulls it off over my head and then I push his pants down his legs. He reaches behind me and cups my ass, so I do the same to him. He grins, and I laugh.

“Football ass,” I grin, giving his big, muscular butt a squeeze. “Best part of the sport.”

“Is that so?” He laughs, crawling on the bed and pushing me backwards. I grin, falling onto my back and nodding.

“Uh huh. Why do you think I enjoy watching it so much?” I reach back and give his ass a smack. “All those tight, shiny pants. They keep me coming back game after game.”

He laughs, nuzzling his face in my neck. He kisses my skin from my ear to my collarbone, gripping my sides with his strong hands.

When he presses his hips towards me, I can feel the heat and hardness of his erection. It’s driving me wild. I don’t remember the last time I was this turned on.

Maybe it’s the thrilling wrongness of it all. I shouldn’t be here, with him, especially not so soon after my breakup. But then again—why not?! I don’t owe Elijah anything. I don’t owe anyone anything.

And right now, the only thing I can think about is the burning heat in the pit of my stomach and the desire that’s flooding my body. I’ve already had an orgasm, but I can feel another one building inside me. The way Jesse touches me makes me ache in the best possible way. His hands have a tenderness that burns as he runs his hands over my stomach, my breasts, every inch of skin that he can reach.

I want to feel him inside me. I want him to fill me up completely, and I want to feel him orgasm just as I did. I want his lips on my body, his hands pressing into me. I want to feel it all.

He groans against me, reaching behind my back to unhook my bra. He throws it away and kisses my breast as I tangle my hands into his hair. I moan, arching my back towards him. He scrapes his teeth on my nipple and my body quakes.

This is the sweetest torture.

When I can’t take it any longer, I claw at his underwear and push it down his legs. He groans, helping me kick it off. He reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out a condom. I watch him roll it over his crown as my mouth waters. His eyes are dark when he looks at me, letting his gaze roam from my legs all the way up to my face. There’s a darkness in his face that I haven’t seen before, and it makes the fire in me burn hotter.

He’s holding his cock in his hand, kneeling between my legs as we look at each other.

The air is thick and everything is still for a moment except for the rising and falling of our chests. I shift my hips towards him, and he lets out a groan.

His hand drifts up my thigh until his thumb brushes against my slit. I shiver, closing my eyes at the sweetness of his touch.

“Your pussy is beautiful,” he growls. I open my eyes and watch him. I spread my legs wider and he licks his lips. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

He runs his fingers up and down my slit again and I lean back into the pillows. Then, I feel the head of his cock against my opening. I spread my legs for him, my mouth falling open as he pushes inside me.

The pleasure explodes through me as he enters. I arch my back and roll my hips towards him as he pushes into me. We’re completely in sync. I lift my hands up towards his stomach, digging my fingernails into his abdominal muscles as I gasp.

He finally stops moving when his cock is buried all the way inside me. I take a deep breath, wrapping my legs around him and pulling him deeper into me. He groans, and then the tension crackles, and finally it explodes.

We claw at each other. I pull him down to kiss me as he slams himself inside me. I gasp with every thrust, moaning louder and louder as I ride the waves of pleasure that course through my veins. My fingernails leave deep, red marks on his skin. His teeth sink into my shoulder as he grunts, thrusting harder inside me.

“Farrah,” he gasps.

I tangle my fingers into his hair and roll my hips towards him, squeezing my legs around his waist and arching my back.

I explode. He crushes his lips against mine as I come. He urges me on, groaning and saying things I can’t hear over the roar of my own heartbeat. His hands leave trails of fire on my body as every muscle contracts around him.

I feel like a rag doll. My orgasm has ruined me, and all I can do is hold on to his powerful body as he drives his cock into me again. Pleasure crashes through me in waves. When he comes, I gasp. I tighten my legs around his waist and smile as I feel his orgasm rip through his body, just as mine did through me.

Some time later, with our arms and legs tangled together, I run my fingers over and back across his chest. He groans contentedly. His eyelids flutter open and he puts his palm over my hand.

“You never told me how you got this scar.”

His face tightens, and he brings my fingers up to his lips. “It was an accident. We were dumb kids.”

He smiles at me, placing my hand back on his chest. There’s a sadness in his eyes. I snuggle closer to him and inhale the scent of his skin.

I never thought I could be so comfortable with another man. I’d gotten used to the idea of marrying Elijah that I hadn’t considered the possibility of finding someone else who could make me feel this good. I know I shouldn’t compare them, but I can’t help myself. Where Elijah made me feel like I was smaller, weaker, dumber, Jesse is the opposite. He’s tender and light, and he seems surprised and delighted when I make a joke. He builds me up and makes me feel better.

He makes me feel worthy.

I feel like myself when I’m around him, and I wonder who I’ve been pretending to be while I was with Elijah. Jesse wraps his arms around me as if he can feel the thoughts swirling in my head.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

“Me too,” I respond. And it’s the truth.