Unable to speak, I reached for his hips, my fingers catching in his boxer briefs. I had a moment to think how hot that was, that he hadn’t bothered to undress either one of us …

Then he started fucking, his hips pistoning in a relentless tempo, his long thick cock plunging and withdrawing from root to tip in rapid-fire thrusts. Supporting his weight entirely with his arms and the tips of his toes, he powered into me, his rigid penis nailing me straight into the mattress.

I came so hard my vision went black, my body seized with pleasure so intense I was locked in it, suspended in the powerful waves of erotic sensation.

I was inundated by the ferocious surge of my climax. My skin tingled from head to toe. Gideon paused on a downstroke, grinding into me, giving my body the steely length of his penis to grasp. My sex spasmed ecstatically around that delicious hardness, gripping him hungrily.

“Fuck,” Gideon bit out, “you’re milking my dick so hard.”

I shook violently, fighting to breathe.

The moment I sagged into the mattress, replete, Gideon pulled his cock out of my trembling slit and left the bed.

Bereft, I lifted a hand to him. “Where are you going?”

“Hang on.” He shoved his boxer briefs all the way off.

He was still hard, his cock rising high and proud, slick from my orgasm—but I wasn’t wet with his.

“You didn’t come.” I was too languid to help when he stripped me of my underwear. Sliding a hand beneath my back, he lifted me and whipped my shirt over my head.

His lips brushed over my brow. “You wanted fast and rough. I want slow and sweet.”

He levered over me again, this time settling into the cradle of my open arms and legs. The moment I felt his weight, his heat, his desire, I realized how much I wanted slow and sweet, too. The tears came then, finally, freed by the heat of his passion and the warmth of his love.

“You’re everything to me,” I cried, the words choked with tears.

“Eva.”

Shifting his hips, Gideon tucked the tip of his penis into my cleft and pushed forward gently, taking time and care to fill me. His lips moved against mine, the stroke of his tongue somehow more erotic than the slide of his cock.

“Hold me,” he whispered, his arms curved beneath my shoulders and his hands cupping the back of my head.

I tightened my grip on him. His buttocks flexed against my calves as he drove into me, his sweat slicking my palms as I caressed his back.

“I love you,” he murmured, his fingertips brushing my tears. “Do you feel it?”

“Yes.”

I watched the pleasure drift over his face as he moved within me.

I held him as he groaned, his body quivering in orgasm.

I kissed the tears away when he cried silently along with me.

And I let go of my grief in the shelter of his arms, knowing that whether in joy or pain, Gideon was one with me.

“I can’t get over this place.” Cary set his hands on the railing that surrounded the wraparound deck and looked out over the water. Sunglasses shielded his eyes while the wind played with his hair. “This house is awesome. I feel like we’re miles from anyone. And the view … un-fucking-believable.”

“Right?” I leaned my butt against the railing, facing the house. Through the wall of sliding glass doors, I watched the Reyes family swarm like bees around the kitchen and great room, with Gideon held captive by my grandmother and both of my aunts.

For me, the joyous mood was tinged with poignancy. My mother had never been a part of this extended group, and now she would never have a chance. But life went on.

Two of my younger cousins chased Lucky around the sofas, while the three older ones played video games with Chris. My uncle Tony and my dad were talking in the reading nook, while my dad bounced his fussy baby niece on his knee.

Gideon was a man who feared family in a way he feared little else, and his heartbreaker of a face reflected bemusement and dismay whenever he surveyed the chaos around him. Since I knew him well, I also saw the hint of panic in his eyes, but I couldn’t save him. My grandmother wasn’t letting him out of her sight.

Cary looked over to see what had drawn my attention. “I’m waiting for your man to sneak out and run like hell.”

I laughed. “That’s why I asked Chris to come, so Gideon could have some support.”

Our group—Gideon, me, Cary, my dad, and Chris—had arrived at the beach around ten in the morning. It was a little after noon when my dad’s family was brought over from their hotel with groceries in tow, so that my grandmother could whip up her famous posole. She said it was known to soothe even the most wounded souls. Whether that was true or not, I knew firsthand that her rendition of the classic Mexican soupy stew was delicious.

“Chris is leaving him to fend for himself,” Cary drawled, “like you did.”