I didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to look back. This was right, so right I knew there would be no regrets.

Never.

He pressed his body fully against mine, all hard muscle and sinew lined up with my softness. He was so masculine to my femininity.

He’s so big. Huge.

My pussy clamped, the thought of him pushing that monstrous dick into me making me excited and nervous.

I stared at his chest, at the hard muscles that were defined, the way his dark chest hair covered his pectoral muscles slightly, and started below his navel to make a trail down to the erection pointed right at me.

I didn’t care that he was older than me, that he was my father’s good friend. I only cared about my feelings for Braxton.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even think straight.

“Do you need me?”

I nodded.

“Then say it.”

“I need you,” I whispered.

He pressed his upper body against mine, his chest hair tickling my breasts. He started licking and sucking at my neck, making me even wetter, needier. The feeling of his tongue and lips on me had me drifting into this pleasurable euphoria.

His cock was like a steel rod between us, pressing against my belly.

“I want to be so fucking dirty with you, do filthy things to you.”

His chest was on mine, his cock between my legs. He gripped my chin tightly, holding me in place as he mouth fucked me. There was no other way to describe it.

He was really dry fucking me now, sliding his cock between my folds, teasing my clit with every upstroke.

“Moira, you’re so fucking ready for me.” He slid both of his hands behind me to grip my ass, clenching the mounds in his big hands and making me cry out for him.

I wanted to feel him pushing into me, stretching my pussy, claiming every inch of my body.

“Are you ready?” he asked in that deep voice of his.

“I’ve always been ready for you.”

He kept one hand on my ass and moved the other between our bodies. I watched as he grabbed his cock and stroked the monster from root to crest. Pre-cum dotted the end, a testament to how turned on he was.

“You ready for me?”

“Always,” I said.

He placed the tip at my entrance.

I thought he’d shove right into me, but instead he rubbed the length up and down my center, moving my arousal around my slit.

“You’re so wet for me.”

He kissed me then, and I grabbed on to his biceps, digging my nails into his firm, muscular arms.

He groaned.

I moaned.

Our bodies became sweatier the longer we made out, the more he kissed me, licking me, nipping my lips and tongue.

I wanted—needed—to have him deep inside of me, tearing through my hymen, making it his, only his.

Always his.

He stilled above me, his muscles strained, taut.

“I’m ready for you. So ready, Braxton.”

“God, baby girl. I’m yours.” Before I could say anything in response, he was pushing his cock into me.

I felt the stretch and burn fill me, consume me.

Right now there was only us.

“More,” I said, meaning it, needing it.

He thrust his hips forward, pushing another inch into me.

“So tight. So wet.” He stared right at me. “So mine.”

My inner muscles clenched on their own, trying to pull him in deeper.

He rested his forehead against mine, and we breathed the same air. “You feel so good.” And then he was buried fully in me.

“Yes, so fucking good.”

I dug my nails farther into his arms.

He started moving in and out of me, faster and harder. The sound of flesh slapping together filled the room, made me feel drunk from it all.

I knew if he kept this up, I could get off on the sound alone.

The root of his cock rubbed against my clit every time he slammed into me, driving me higher to the precipice of going off the cliff and never hitting ground.

He pushed fully into me, stilled, and rotated his hips. It stole my breath, made me light-headed, dizzy with sensation.

“You’re so tight, so fucking hot and wet for me.” Sweat beaded his brow, and the sound that left him was almost animalistic. He pulled out and then slammed into me especially hard.

“God. Yes.”

“I want to see you get off. I want to feel you shake for me, come undone for me.”

Yes.

“Then touch me.” I couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud.

He groaned right before he reached between us and pressed his thumb to my clit. And when he started rubbing that little engorged bud, my body arched on its own, my breasts pressing farther toward him.

I knew he was close to getting off, too. There was no way he couldn’t be right at the precipice of going over the edge like me.

“You’re mine,” he said so low, his voice distorted, crazy almost.

“Yes,” I said loudly, not caring if the whole hotel could hear me.

He thrust into me again, at the same time applying more pressure to my clit.

“I want to hear you say it again,” he demanded, his voice breathless.

I didn’t need him to elaborate to know what he meant, what he wanted me to say.

“I’m yours.”

“Yeah, that’s it, my sweet girl. That’s so fucking it.”

He thrust in and out of me faster, harder.

I was breathing so harsh, hyperventilating with my arousal. “Yes, Braxton,” I gasped when he slammed into me so hard I moved up an inch on the bed. “I’ll only ever be yours.”

He pushed into me again and again, never stopping, never relenting. The pain only heightened my pleasure.

“Come for me. Do it now. Give it to me.”

And I got off for him. Just like that.

I cried out at the pleasure, at how good this moment felt. He thrust deep into my body and stilled, his huge body tense above me, his muscles rigid, defined.

The sound of his breathing was haggard, rough, just like the man I’d fallen in love with.

And then I could feel him come deep in my body. The way he pumped into me, filled me with his cum … made me his. He rested his big body on mine, his warm breath skating along my damp flesh.

“I’ll always take care of you, always,” he seemed to say to himself. “I love you, Moira. I love you so fucking much it hurts my heart at times.”

My breath hitched at his words. “I love you too, have for longer than I can even admit.”

When several moments passed, he opened his eyes and looked at me. I could see the beads of perspiration lining his brow. And then he leaned down and kissed me, the salty yet sweet flavor of his kiss making me drunk. When he pulled back, I felt dizzy.

“Are you okay, baby girl?”

I nodded. “I’m more than okay.” And I was, more than I could ever put into words.

He held me tightly and I knew everything would be good and right, that this was where I was supposed to be.

“I can’t leave you, not after all of this.”

I pulled back and looked into his face.

“I’ll switch my meetings to the city. I have to be close to you, have to be here as we really get to know each other.”

Of course I’d known him seemingly my whole life, but I knew he meant knowing me in this romantic aspect. I wanted that too.

“We’ll need to let your father know.”

“Let him know?” I was curious, interested in what he meant.

He cupped my cheek, looking serious. “I need him to know that I love you, and no matter what, I’m not letting you go.”

And just like that I was lost, gone for this man whom I loved more than anything else. No matter what, I knew we’d get through it. No obstacle would stand in our way. Neither of us would let that happen. I knew that as deeply as I knew Braxton was here with me right now.

* * *

The weeks had flown by, but when someone was happy, it tended to do that. I leaned back in the chair and stared at where Moira and her father stood by the grill.

“You’re going to burn the steaks,” Moira said, pushing her father gently out of the way and taking over. They both had smiles on their faces.

We had told Moira’s father right away about our relationship, and although he had been concerned about the age difference at first, the fact remained I wasn’t about to back down. I wasn’t going to let her go. Moira was mine, and that was the end of it.

I’d bend for her, not the other way around. She wanted to stay here and finish school, and I would transfer all my accounts so I could be closer to her. I wasn’t going to continue with my business trips when I had Moira back here waiting for me.

She glanced at me and smiled, and the way she made me feel with that one expression, that gentle look, could have dropped me to my knees. I’d do anything for that woman. Anything.

About twenty minutes later she came back over to me, and I immediately embraced her, bringing her down so she sat beside me. Truth was I wanted her on my lap, wanted to keep her close, keep her right up against me. But I respected the fact that her father was here and most likely wouldn’t want to see his daughter in such an intimate embrace, no matter who she was with.

“Things are going surprisingly well.”

I knew she was referring to her father’s girlfriend acting mature and not being drama seeking. I’d heard enough stories about the young woman my good friend was involved with to know she was materialistic, vain, and loved the attention on her. But Charles was happy, he knew what he was involved with, and I didn’t see him falling into some mindless situation where she drained him dry.

No, Charles was smarter than I was when it came to holdings and finances. Hell, he hadn’t made all his money by being an idiot.

“He’s an old man and living a little excitement. It won’t last, but let him ride it out.” I chuckled at the look Moira gave me. “I didn’t mean to give you a visual of Charles and—”

“No, the look I gave you was in reference to you saying he was an old man. You’re the same age and in your prime.”

My cock stirred at the sound of her saying I was in my prime. Truth was, no woman had ever made me feel the way Moira did. Yeah, I was old enough to be her father, but she was an adult, knew what she wanted, and I was willing to give her the world.

I tamed the fucker down. Now was not the time or place, but tonight … tonight I’d be ravishing her body, taking care of her in the way a real man did with the woman he loved. And when I thought she was ready, when I didn’t think I was rushing her or making her feel pressured, I’d be asking this woman, who made my heart skip a beat every time I thought about her, to marry me.

And if she said yes, I’d spend the rest of my life showing her exactly how happy I could make her.