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“You doing alright?”

She nods, her touch caressing my cheek, my chin, my mouth. It’s so soft and sweet, solidifying our connection. I don’t think I can go back to the way my life was before her.

Her mouth lifts to cover mine, and it’s so goddamned tender.

Who knew something so gentle could cut me so deeply?

I sink a little further into her, glad to have unbuttoned my shirt, and feel her flesh against mine. Her skin is cool, but she’s fire.

And I need her.

Fuck, I need her…

Bracing myself just above her, a mere inch between us, our gazes lock. Those beautiful blue eyes capture me, and I’m a goner.

Pleasure swells low, building as I thrust into her with slow, determined thrusts. Sure, I could come quick and take her with me, but I don’t want this moment to be over. I don’t want her toslip out of my grasp, and she will as soon as I spill myself inside her.

No matter how long I stall, this will end. I have to let her up to go to class. To teach my own.

Fuck.

That tender twist makes me pump with more determination. A slight angle change has her mouth falling open, and I revel in how I can make her body respond to mine. How easily she hands over the reins to let me take control of her pleasure.

And we’re both barreling there now.

Sofia’s thighs shake, trembling with her impending orgasm. Trilling little moans have me kissing them to near silence.

They tear through me.

My muscles ripple, picking up my pace, and she squeezes so tightly, clamping down and wringing herself out on my cock.

Another few thrusts. It’s all I need.

Pump. Fuck. Slam. Slam. Slam.

My cock pulses, balls drawing up, and I fill her with my cum, grinding into her, wanting every last drop left to be mine.

All fucking mine.

26

SOFIA

Today is the day I take Noah to a family cooking class. He has been asking me about it every day for the last six weeks since I booked it. I’m so happy he’s excited to do this with me. We signed up to learn how to make pizza from scratch.

“What kind of pizza do you think we will make?”

“Everything.” Noah hops in his booster seat, jumping against the harness.

“Everything? A supreme?”

“Yes. Supreme everything!” His smile is so big and beaming that I know we’re going to have a good time. He’s usually subdued and easygoing, but food is his fun button.

There's eight small groups, and we each have a counter, a sink, and an oven range. He’s got a step that has a small safety guard. If they only knew just how comfortable my little dude is with cooking on far more unstable stools.

He’s already manhandling the veggies on our counter, touching them gently since he’s learned how bruising works. He smells the red bell pepper in front of him, pressing his nose right against it and looking up at me with a silly grin.

Laughing, I pull over the recipe as we begin, measuring out every ingredient for each step of making the dough before we start mixing.