Sex with Peyton is indescribable. Unlike any experience I had with another person. It isn’t just the physicality. Being with Peyton… yes, what we share is raw and primal, deep and carnal. But it is also impeccable and disorienting, covetous and euphoric. Our bond makes me weak in the knees. Light-headed and unsteady.
With Peyton, I don’t just picture the physical endgame when we have sex. I envision where it will lead us years from now. Sharing the same bed, day in and out. Not just for sex. I picture her limbs tangled with mine. Breath steady on my chest and palm over my heart. Hair splayed on my shoulder and the pillow. Breasts and hips snug to my side.
“Take me to bed,” she whispers against my lips, then kisses me softly.
I snake my arms around her waist. “Hold on tight.”
Peyton laces her fingers behind my neck. Scooting to the couch edge, I rise and walk us to the bedroom, her ankles locked at my lower back. Every step forward, she kisses my lips, my chin, the line of my jaw. Nips the lobe of my ear. Sucks the spot just above the pulse in my neck.
Every step forward is a match to the fuse only Peyton lights. One she sparks with her heady touch and reverent kisses. Fire and vibrancy and undiluted need spills from my veins. Every nerve ending wakes and begs for more. And deep in my marrow, my soul connects with hers.
The sensation engulfs me. Swallows me whole with no promise to let go.
And I never want it to let go.
I lay her on the bed. Kiss her as if she may crumble at my touch. Unhook her feet and peel away her clothes. Then my own.
Skin to skin, the world around us disappears. For the next several hours, we connect like never before. Slow and sentimental, as if we have been lovers for a lifetime and not weeks. Every touch is special and new and incomparable to any previous connection we shared.
And when we curl into each other, breathless and sweaty and sated, an imaginary bulb lights in my head.
For the first time, I made love to a woman. Linked myself to her. Connected with her on the most intimate level. Bonded beyond the physical. Something I have never done. At this realization, a sense of wholeness engulfs me. Aligns all the little pieces that never fit right with anyone else.
Peyton does this. Straightens all the jagged edges and fixes all the broken parts. Without effort, Peyton makes me whole. Better. A man.
I squeeze her closer to my side, kiss the crown of her head and resist saying the three small words on the tip of my tongue. Words I have never said to any woman. Words I won’t be able to resist saying much longer.
Question is… will Peyton reciprocate? Or has my love for her blinded me?