Please just fuck me.”

Her voice drips with a soul-crushing need, like she’d trade every last thing she’s ever owned or cared about in this moment just to have my cock inside her, to feel her walls tighten around my shaft.

“I’m not just going to fuck you,” I say, gripping her hips and lifting her ass up, forcing her on her knees where I can see her glistening pussy and her tight ass waiting for me. “I’m going to devour every fucking inch of you.”

I grip the base of my cock and drive it into her pussy, not bothering with niceties like taking it slow or easing myself in. I push into her impossible tightness, letting out a low, primal sound as her tight, scorching hot walls close in around my length, squeezing me so perfectly.

Her breath is ragged now, and she gasps my name in an unconscious way that isn’t meant for pleasing me or trying to be sexy. Every moan is real and guttural, sending chills down my back.

I bring my hand back and slap her ass, watching as a faint red mark appears in the shape of my hand. All my old habits, the tricks and moves I’d use rise up and fall back down in my mind, feeling ingenuine. For some reason, none of it feels like it would be right. It would cheapen this experience.

I squeeze her hips tighter, driving her body into me like a fucktoy until she’s so wet I can hear the squelching sound of my cock inside her along with the slap of my hips against her ass. It feels good. So fucking good. But it doesn’t feel right. I need more.

I flip her over by her hips in a quick motion, only pulling my cock out of her for a few seconds to get her in position before I drive myself back into her. I grip her knees and pulling her closer to me so I can enjoy every last inch of her. She’s watching me with those sexy brown-green eyes, long eyelashes, and a thoughtfulness that takes me off guard.

I squeeze one of her tits, rolling her nipple gently between my fingertips while I pound into her, still battling a strange, confusing sensation that sits at the back of my head--like I’m doing something wrong, missing something.

I lean down over her, my chest pressed to hers and stare into her eyes while I fuck her, so close that our breath mingles together. The act ignites a new kind of fire inside me, something warm and real, more than just lust. I press my hand to her cheek, kissing her and letting my cock slide out of her pussy.

I grin against her lips, feeling her own part into a smile.

“Do I have to beg for it back?” she asks throatily.

I pull back enough that I can see her eyes. I don’t have words for what stirs in me. No grand speech or gesture. All I can do is stare at her with a sense of wonder for what she’s doing to me. I see her in an entirely different way, wondering how I ever thought she was less than perfect. How I ever managed to let her walk out of my cabin, even that first night boggles my mind. I wonder how I was so fucking stupid not to see.

“You’re perfect to me,” I breathe, eyebrows drawing together as I hear the words like they’re from a stranger’s mouth. I don’t say things like that to women and mean them, because I never think of them. But now? “So fucking perfect,” I growl, kissing her neck hungrily, but slowly. I savor every taste, exploring her body with my mouth and my hands like we have all the time in the world. Because we do. I’m kidding myself if I think I’m sending her away in the morning. She’s mine, and I’m not going to let what’s mine get away. Not now or ever.

Goosebumps ripple across her skin everywhere I touch, and her small hands squeeze at me, rubbing and pulling and digging in search for some release, some way to channel the unbelievable pressure she must feel to find her own release. She must feel it because I do too, my cock is so hard, every heartbeat sends a dull ache of pain through me. I need to cum so bad it hurts, but I don’t dare rush this. I feel something stirring inside me, changing me, but there’s still a chance this could be the only time I have her, and I’d spend the rest of my life regretting it if I rushed it by even a second.

“If you think I’m perfect, you’re going to be disappointed,” she says, stiffening slightly.

I can sense her insecurity hanging between us, but I instinctively feel where to massage it away, just like a knot in a stiff back that needs kneading. I bring my mouth to her nipple, kissing the hard bud and pulling it into my mouth before letting it go with a satisfying pop. “I don’t have much real-estate left to inspect, but so far you’re ten out of ten,” I say, making her giggle when I try to kiss up her side and to her armpits.

She bites her lip as her amusement quickly turns back to arousal. “Why do you make me feel so good?”

“Because you deserve it,” I say between kisses. Every bit of her I touch with my lips adds fuel to the fire growing quickly out of control inside me. I felt lust when I climbed on top of her in this bed. I felt the normal animal desire to feel myself inside her. Now though? Now I feel something I’ve never felt before. I don’t just want to fuck her. I don’t only want to give her the orgasm of her life. I want to cherish her.

She threads her fingers through my hair, gripping me tight and pulling me back to her mouth, where I suck her lip into mine and breathe in the scent of her--something flowery and soft. She smells like innocence.

Our tongues roll together, and I guide my cock back inside her. “God,” I groan against her mouth. “You feel so good.”

“Not so bad yourself,” she breathes.

This time, I don’t pound into her. I don’t squeeze her until my hands leave red marks. My teeth aren’t gritted against the out of control intensity. Instead, I ease into her, rocking my length into her depths with a careful, deliberate pace that carries a weight to it. There’s no need to move quickly because this moment is something to be savored, not rushed.

She digs her fingers into my back, pressing my chest into hers, her breath hot on my neck as we move together, bodies slick with sweat.

I press my forehead to hers where our eyes can meet. I put my hand to the side of her cheek, watching the beautiful shift of her features as she nears her climax--the way her eyebrows twitch down, forehead creasing, and lips quivering. It’s more perfect than any painting. It’s not only lust and basic instinct that brings me closer to my own climax. It’s a soul-shattering sense of completeness, as if this is the moment and the thing I’ve been searching for. The only thing in the world that’s the right shape to fit the hole that has been inside me for as long as I can remember.

We cum together--her with a gasp and a shuddering breath that tightens her grip on my back and makes her legs wrap up around me, heels digging into me and urging me deeper. I fight to keep my eyes from squeezing shut with the intensity of my orgasm, not wanting to miss her face as she rides her own. I groan, letting my cum fill her without a second thought, thinking how right it feels, how right all of it feels.

She squirms when she feels the heat of my release, mouth opening in surprise before she chews on her red and swollen lip, closing her eyes and sinking back into her pillow like she’s about to take the most satisfying nap of her life.

I kiss her then, surprised to still feel a spark of heat. It’s like I’m kissing my first crush when I was just a kid. I love you. The words bubble up and nearly reach my lips before I bite them back because surely it must be the sex talking. I’m not about to go saying something stupid, no matter how real it feels in this moment.

“Wow,” she says as I roll off her and turn my head to watch her.

“Yeah,” I agree.

“You look surprised,” she says, looking so goddamn beautiful it hurts. Flushed cheeks, lips red and raw from kissing me. Perfect and innocent. Sweet. And right now, she’s mine.

“Did I pass your little test?” she asks. She smiles mischievously, but the way her eyes flick to mine, then away tells me all I need to know. She’s nervous. Nervous this was all just part of my usual treatment and she was going to get her “I rode Chris Savage and survived, sort of” t-shirt along with her ticket home.

“Passed?” I ask. “You destroyed the fucking test,” I say, running my finger along her soft jawline. “You might as well have ripped it up and lit it on fire, because—” I clear my throat, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. What was I going to say? Because no one else will ever need to take it? Was I really just going to imply that I’d never fuck another woman? I might as well have been about to propose to her.

She gives me a strange look at how I cut myself off, but still looks relieved. “When I went to school, if we just ripped up our tests and lit them on fire, that didn’t mean we passed. Your school must’ve been great.”

I laugh, running a thumb over her lip and fighting the urge to go another round with her. “You passed,” I say. “Flying colors. But I think your professor might want to retest you a few times just to be sure you didn’t cheat.”

“Oh?” she asks. “I suppose I could talk to him about it.”

“Good. I hope it goes without saying that I’m canceling your flight in the morning. And if you think you’re still leaving when we head for Italy…”

“My sisters do need me,” she says. “But I can talk to them about it, maybe we can figure out a compromise.”

“Whatever it takes,” I say. I mean it, too. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her at my side. Maybe that’s just chemicals in my brain or a lack of sleep talking, but I have a feeling it’s more than that.

One way or another, my life isn’t going to be the same anymore.