Hutton

We ride up in the glass elevators with our eyes on each other instead of the view of the expansive hotel lobby. Ally’s beauty takes my breath away. Her hair is windblown and in disarray, the shiny brown strands tangled together. Her face is more bare than at the bar earlier, her makeup fading away with the hours. She doesn’t need all that stuff anyway.

She still takes the time to reapply her lipstick.

The elevator doors slide open, and she walks into the hallway ahead of me. We haven’t spoken since we walked into the hotel. This night holds more meaning than our other nights ever did, along with a whole slew of what-ifs. The possibility of us coming to an end has added weight where there once was none.

Just shy of the door, I stop and stand in her way. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replies with an easier smile sliding into place.

“No matter what happens in there—”

“What’s going to happen in there?” She arches an eyebrow.

“I’m going to show you how much I care about you. It’s going to be rough emotionally. It’s going to be raw and real, and this time you won’t walk away unscathed. When you walk away, walk down this hall, and take that elevator to leave, you’re going to know exactly what you’re leaving inside that room. This time, I’m not leaving anything to chance because we may have been fate, but it’s up to us to create our destiny.”

“Hutton,” she says, her chest expanding as tears fill her eyes, “kiss me.”

I cup her face and run the pads of my thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away her tears. Leaning my head against hers, I look deep into her eyes. “Why are you crying, princess?”

“Because you’re too perfect to be real.”

“I’m real. I’m right here, so real.” When I kiss her, I give her everything I have because this is it. My last shot to make sure she never forgets. Her body hits the wall behind her, mine pressing against hers.

My needs begin to overtake reasoning as her little moans elicit an intense reaction within me. Every time we’re together, it’s better than the time before. I’m always turned on by her, muscle memory kicking in. I know her likes, her desires, and her fetishes, and she knows mine. Her hand dips into the top of my jeans, her warmth embracing my hardness.

My tongue finds a home with hers, and I can’t stop my middle from pushing against her. “It drives me wild when you wear clothes this tight. It’s as if you’re wearing them for the whole fucking world to see.”

“I love to drive you wild.”

Leaning back, I look into her eyes, the eyes that hold so much more power over me than she’ll ever know. “Why do you torture me?”

“I like to know that I’m not the only one who gets jealous.”

“Jealous? You’re never jealous.”

Her grip tightens around my cock, causing me to suck in a sharp breath. “You think I don’t see how women look at you, how they vie for your attention? My jealousy boils inside every time another woman talks to you or touches you or brushes against you.” My breath is harsh but regulates with each stroke of her hand around me. “As long as I’m here, this is mine.”

“It’s yours long after. I’m yours long after.”

Her hand stops when she pushes up on her toes to kiss me. And as much as I like her hand wrapped around me, I like her mouth on me more.

A hint of lime from her drink lingers, and I stroke her lower lip as I kiss my way to her ear. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”

“You always do.” Her fingers pull at the hair at the back of my head, and she whispers, “You always make me feel so good.”

Reaching into my pocket, I pull my key card out and open the door. There could be this frenzied sex session. That’s how most of our nights begin—taking down a lamp or a plant, a stool along the way, a couch tipped over or a lounge chair broken. It’s happened at her place. But those times were when we knew we had more nights ahead of us.

We don’t have that luxury tonight, so maybe we’re both willing to take it slow to absorb every minute.

The door closes behind me. The drapes are still open, which gives enough light for me to see her in the dark. Her jacket slips from her shoulders and is tossed on the chair. When she starts on the zipper of her tall boots, I kick off my shoes and socks and work off my belt.

I can hear her swallow and wonder if she can hear my heart pounding. “Why are we nervous?” she asks.

Easy. “Because we matter to each other.”

She pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it to the pile of other discarded clothes. “That should put us at ease, not the opposite.”

When we’re standing in our underwear, I go to her. Running my hands over her soft skin and the curve of her back, I whisper, “It doesn’t make it the opposite. It makes it better.”

When I kiss her, a fire ignites between us. My boxer briefs are taken down when she slides to her knees in front of me. The pale pink straps of her bra almost blend in with her alabaster skin.

So delicate.

So perfect.

So right.

Reaching down, I take her hair in my hand and move it to the side so I can watch those pretty red lips part and take me. She looks up at me as she covers the head, but then closes her eyes and slides down my length, taking me deep. “Fuck,” I mutter, my eyes briefly closing. My hand fists her hair, and a full breath covers my dick in response.

She likes when I take control as much as she likes to take turns being in charge. She’s a giver and a taker, submissive and dominant.

I cup her face, wanting to fuck her mouth. We only share a look, but in that exchange, she reads my needs.

When she relaxes her jaw, I begin to pump in and out, her mouth hugging my hardness, sliding almost the full distance and then back to the tip again.

Giver.

I want to slam into her, come down her throat, and own her in ways that some might consider depraved. I want to fill every opening and fuck until her muscles only remember me.

My stomach clenches, and I pull back. This is not how I want to come. Lifting her to her feet, I admire how the ruby color that covered her lips is smeared—some on me, some on her. Ally’s a fucking fantasy come to life, but she doesn’t care about that shit. It’s part of what makes being together even more erotic. I’ve never had a lover like her.

I still run my thumb over her lip, appreciating how swollen it is from the sexual act. “I want you naked.”

There’s no hesitation.

Giver.

“How do you want me, Hutton?”

Such a fucking loaded question. “I want to be buried inside that tight pussy when I come. How do you want me?”

“I want to come on your mouth.”

Fuck me.

Taker.

The sexy little vixen.

“Get on the bed.” I love watching her ass move. It’s not just toned, but she’s still got some curves to her backside despite the weight she’s lost.

Stretching out on the bed, she watches me as I climb onto the mattress and hover over her. I kiss her once on the mouth and then work slowly down her body, kissing between her breasts and past her belly button. She’s already squirming beneath me, so I anchor those hips after kissing each one. Her smooth legs spread open, and I finally kiss where she wants me most. Her sweet lower lips are a soft pink and bare.

Taking her clit gently between my teeth, I don’t waste time. I flick it a few times with my tongue before sucking until she’s bucking. She’s already so wet for me that I slip a finger, and then another, inside her and return that blissful torture she doled out to me, bringing her closer to that edge of ecstasy.

My hair is tugged, my head squeezed between her thighs, but I don’t retreat. This is a war I don’t intend to lose. I fuck her harder with my mouth and hand until I win. “Hutton. God. Yes. Yes.”

Her orgasm strikes hard as her back arches and her body gives in. Another wave hits and rolls through her until she melts to the mattress. Her arms go wide and her eyes close, relishing in the heavenly aftermath.

It’s in the aftermath that I see her soul. She can’t hide that look in her eyes—the one where she looks replete, as if I’m the only man for her. In my mind, she sees me as everything she needs. At least, that’s what I want to see.

She doesn’t make demands but gentle requests while lying there, vulnerable and exposed. The tips of her fingers encourage me to come higher, to kiss her, to savor the emotions we’ve stirred. She never allows herself to indulge for long, but in those few minutes, after she falls apart, I see the truth.

She’s a free spirit with a kind heart. Playful. Clever. Vivacious. Gentle. Quiet. Introspective. She’s every color of the rainbow and a myriad of emotions in the span of a few hours, tenderhearted before me now. She carries the weight of the world in her irises but lives like there’s no tomorrow.

I start to get up to grab a condom because I stupidly forgot to get one out before. But Ally holds me in place, staring into my eyes. “It’s not fair to ask of you—”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Will you make love to me?”

Not fuck.

Love.

I nod and kiss her collarbone because it doesn’t matter what I thought we were going to do. It only matters that we’re together doing it.

She adds, “I want to feel you, Hutton.”

Okay.

“All of you.”

Oh. That’s not what I was expecting.

“Wait . . .” It’s stupid to question. I know she’s on the pill. I’ve known since the first time, but we still always use condoms. Just so I’m clear, I ask, “You’re still on—”

“The pill.” She nods.

This changes things. We’ve not done this before. I haven’t ever done it. I’m always safe, even when I’ve been drinking.

But Ally is different. She’s the only one I’ve been with since we started having sex together, and she said there’s been no one but me since we met. So the offer is tempting, and I don’t even have alcohol to blame for some careless decision.

This choice has been taken under consideration. She’s thought this through. And if I’m honest, I have too. I’ve lain awake at night imagining what it would be like to go bare, to give Ally all of me. Now it’s as though I’m craving that connection, something I’ve wanted with someone special. Maybe that’s always been her.

I maneuver over her again and position myself between her legs. “You’re sure?”

With her hands on my shoulders, she looks so relaxed, exactly how she should be when she’s with me. “So sure.”

Pushing in, I take it slow, but as her warmth envelops me, I’m tempted to thrust hard. So fucking hard. Sloooow, I remind myself.

My head drops to her shoulder. Fuck. “You feel incredible.”

Arms wrap around me as I gather up the pieces of my soul and put it back together under her embrace. And then I start moving again. Slow at first, but when I lift up on my elbows, I pick up speed.

Love.

Love.

Thrust.

Love.

I promised to give her everything I had. We move together as if we were born to please one another. She meets me thrust for thrust as we kiss and caress, knead and need.

I’m about to lose more than my mind. I can’t last all night. She feels too good. Just as I start to pull out, she says, “Stay. Come inside me.”

Fuck me.

My thoughts are blurry as my body moves. Sweat glistens across her body like diamonds catching the light. I grunt and come, my arms holding her tightly to me as I pour everything I am into her until there’s nothing left of me.

Physically and emotionally. I’m yours, Ally.

The feel of her nails scraping lightly across my scalp brings me back to this heaven on earth, and I kiss her cheek. Sliding to the side, I drape my arm across my forehead and close my eyes. I could sleep for days, weeks, or even months in this sated state as long as I knew she would be here when I wake.

She won’t be, though, so I force my lids to reopen and look at her, to take in her beauty once again. Something’s holding her back. In the glimpse of her sated expression, I wonder if it’s not what I’m asking that she’s withdrawing from, but something different. But then all I can see is her beautiful eyes, soft skin, and lips I love, and everything else flees my mind.

When we catch our breath, we take turns in the bathroom before returning to bed. Lying next to each other just after two in the morning, I broach the topic I’ve let slide for too long. “Why’d you cancel your visit to see me? I don’t get it as I thought the game . . . well, I thought we were past that.”

“I didn’t cancel because of a game, Hut. I was confused . . .”

“But why—”

“You were never a game to me, even when we were pretending. Life was throwing me curveballs, and I needed to think . . . I needed time.”

“Okay.” I kiss her shoulder and stay there, finally allowing my eyes to close before confessing, “Each time we’ve been together, I haven’t pretended. I haven’t been playing with you.”

I hear the intake of her breath, and with my arm resting across her stomach, I feel the depth of her inhale. “Neither have I.”

I’m tempted to keep her talking, to keep her awake until she decides to leave. I can tell how tired she is, so I pull her against me and hold her because it doesn’t matter what I say or do. She’ll be gone before the sun rises.