I wrap my fingers around Colt’s hard dick. “Don’t I get to play with my gift first?”

He groans with pleasure as I pump the shaft with a pulsating rhythm, massaging his balls in the process. “You keep that up and I’m not sure how long I can last.”

I pull him into bed and push him onto his back. Shimmying down, I lay on my stomach between his legs. “My turn, now,” I tease, letting my mouth linger near the tip of his penis. Gripping his erection in my hand, I give it a long lick from base to tip.

His sharp intake of breath slices the air. “Damn, Shayla.”

I grin. “As I recall, you like slow, long strokes.” I repeat the action, taking my time licking him. My tongue performs an erotic dance, stroking him with a slow, enticing pace. After I trace circular patterns into the tip, I pull most of his ten inches into my mouth. My teeth slightly gaze his granite flesh as I rhythmically pump the base of his dick.

“Stop,” he growls out.

My head pops up. His clenched jaw is the first thing I notice. His eyes squeezed shut are the second. A smile spreads across my lips. I know why he’s stopped me, but I play with danger, anyway.

“I must be doing something wrong,” I tease. “After all, it’s been years since we’ve done this. Maybe your tastes have changed. Maybe now you like fast, quick licks.” My head dips again. My tongue flicks up and down, like I’m trying to keep a popsicle from melting in my hand in the Texas heat. I take the length of him inside my mouth, bathing his shaft in warmth, sucking it hard.

Strong fingers clasp my shoulders as he hauls me up and brings my face level. Anguish and lust fill his gaze. “Enough torture. I want you, now.”

Before I can reply, he flips me onto my back and crashes his mouth against mine. The tangy taste of our bodies mingles on our tongues as we kiss. My coochie throbs uncontrollably. I want him so bad.

He drags his mouth from mine, and then he reaches inside the drawer again. Only when he’s securely sheathed in the tight latex does he take the plunge, thrusting forward and filling my body with his thick, hard length. My breath catches as a dizzying pleasure spirals through me and threatens to take me to the edge of another orgasm.

Good Lord! How is it possible for him to make me feel this way with just one stroke?

“Shayla.” His hoarse whisper comes out strangled. “Being inside you is even better than I remember.”

“I feel the same way.”

No use in lying. A familiar warmth envelopes me as I hook my legs around his back and pull him deeper. Our lovemaking has been a long time coming. I have neither the reason nor the desire to hold back. I meet him stroke for stroke, rolling my hips upward to accommodate his girth. He pushes, hammers forward, pulls back, and then dives in again.

I love the power of his thrust. I match his rhythm, holding him tight and rocking against him. I combat the sobs that stall in the back of my throat. I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve pined for this man, ashamed of my yearning for him. I never thought he’d want me again. Never thought I’d feel him inside me, tenderly making love.

He looks down at me, his eyes glistening. “I need you, Shayla. I need us. Please...”

There’s that word again. Please. He doesn’t finish his sentence. There’s no need. I know what he means, because I feel it, too. He seems filled with as much emotion as I am. A tidal wave of feelings crashes through me.

“I love you, Colt.”

He clasps my face in both hands, his gaze holding mine captive. I see so much reflected in his eyes. Lust. Love. Relief. Gratitude. Faith.

His kiss consumes me, igniting a fire in my body that I hope never fades.

I want him closer, until I can’t tell my flesh from his. I clamp my legs across his back, pulling him deeper, grinding my hips against his.

I clutch him tight, anxious for release, but wanting to delay my orgasm and feel him inside me just a few moments longer. We move to a ravenous pace, our bodies hungry for each other after years of being apart. I want to hold on, but wicked sparks of pleasure claw up from my core, flood my veins, and burst the floodgates of my resolve. A white-hot explosion catapults me toward my second climax. Colt muffles my screams of ecstasy by capturing my lips with a penetrating kiss. His relentless stroke pumps into me as he cums, moments later, with a release that rocks me with the sheer force of its intensity.

“Shayla,” he rasps into my ear.

“I’m right here, Colt. I’m not going anywhere.” As I bask in the euphoria of our new-found connection, he folds me in his embrace. I’m his now. There’s no turning back.