I felt amazing.

Warm, tingly, sated.

And as I opened Dillon’s trousers and slid them down his thighs, then reached inside his black boxers and pulled his very hard, and very large, cock free, I felt something else.

Hungry.

The need to give him even an ounce of the pleasure he’d just given me was all consuming, and I wasted no time taking him into my mouth and getting a taste.

His groan of pleasure was pure satisfaction, and although I wanted to hear that sound every day for the rest of my life, I’d settle with hearing it as much as possible over the next three days.

I looked up at him as I slid him in and out of my mouth, sucking as I did, my tongue moving in a swirling motion on the underside of his cock.

The look on Dillon’s face, and knowing that I was the one making him feel that way, was enough to have my panties getting wet, even though I’d just come under his lips moments before. His eyes were at half mast, his lips parted slightly, and his hand was caressing the back of my head as his hips moved slightly, unable to hold back his involuntary thrust.

I felt Dillon’s hands move to my face, and he urged me to ease back slowly, then bent down to take my lips with his. His tongue swept inside my mouth as his lips moved against mine. We moved back, me scooting back on the bed as he placed his knees to the mattress and joined me. When I was laying back with my head on the pillow, I lost him as he quickly shucked off the rest of his clothes and resumed his position above me.

He was beautiful naked, so beautiful I thought it was a shame he didn’t walk around in the buff every day, so the world could enjoy the site of his golden skin, with its smattering of dark, sexy hair.

Now feeling overdressed, I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, then pulled it off and threw it to the side. When Dillon’s naked chest brushed against mine, we both groaned, and I pushed up against him, wanting to feel more of our skin-on-skin contact. I closed my eyes, needing to focus only on what I was feeling for a second, wanting to memorize every bit of this night so I could keep it with me forever.

The whisper of his fingertips on my chin, the way his lips felt full and soft against mine, the smell of his skin when my nose brushed his neck.

Every little thing that was making me fall further and deeper for Dillon Lewis.

“Laurel,” he murmured against my lips, and I swear, I melted at the sound. Melted right into the plush hotel mattress.

I lifted my hips when I felt his hand at the waistband of my panties, and reached down to help him get them off.

I heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper, then lost the feel of his skin as he put it on quickly, then rejoined me, my hands caressing every inch of skin that I could reach. My eyes fluttered open, and I found him gazing down at me, his lips turned up, and his hair rumpled from my fingers. I held his gaze as he slid inside, my legs falling open and my hips thrusting up as he got deeper and deeper.

When Dillon was fully seated inside me, we both paused, taking the moment to breath, to feel, before he began to move, and I began to match his stride.

It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever felt. A symphony of movement that I’d remember for the rest of my life. We played each other until we were both gasping, each other’s names on our lips as we came.

I tried to catch my breath and began to wonder what would happen next. Would he roll off of me and expect me to go back to my room? Would he be a cuddler and want me to stay? Would he want to go for round two?

I had no idea, and felt nerves start creeping in as my heart rate returned to normal and the lust-induced haze started to lift.

I was starting to panic, and opened my mouth to make some awkward remark, when Dillon shifted and I felt his lips brush against mine. Then they brushed against my cheek, then my neck, before he landed on the bed next to me and pulled me up against him.

I waited, like an opossum afraid to give away my position, as he got comfortable and snuggled against me.

“Are you cold?” I managed, when it became apparent that I wouldn’t be kicked out of the bed just yet. “We could get under the covers.”

“Yeah, a bit actually,” Dillon replied, his voice drowsy.

We shifted and maneuvered until we had the covers over us and were snuggled back with each other, this time with Dillon on his back and me flush against his side, my head on his chest.

He ran his fingertips gently along the length of my arm, then back up again, and I heard his breathing even out.

“You good?” Dillon asked softly, and I could tell from his tone that he was about to drift off.

“Perfect,” I replied, smiling against his chest.

Dillon’s arm around me tightened slightly, then went lax as his breathing deepened.

I laid there, in Dillon’s arms, my cheek to his chest, the memory of him inside me still so fresh that I could feel it, and I did exactly what I knew I shouldn’t do.

I began to dream.

And hope.

I imagined sleeping in his arms every night. Waking up to him every day. Making love to him, marrying him, having children with him.

And, even though I knew it was all a fantasy, when I fell asleep, it was with a smile on my face and hope in my heart.