I grab her hair and pull her head back, so I can kiss the side of her neck. I bite her gently, and suck on the tender skin, my other hand still fondling her breasts.

I leave marks everywhere I touch her. Her skin is so delicate that I can see the flushed imprints where I squeeze her breasts, where I bite her neck. It makes me want to whip her again, just for the pleasure of seeing those red welts on her flawless ass. It makes me want to tease and torture every inch of her body.

I love how wild it makes her. The more I push her, the more she wants. She can’t get enough of it. She’s riding my cock, her head pulled back with my hand wrapped up in her hair. She presses my hand tighter against her breast, begging me to squeeze harder, to torment her sensitive little nipples.

I want to know what she was thinking at that wedding. I know she wasn’t crying from sentiment. It was a beautiful ceremony, but I know Riona—her mind must have been full to overflowing, to make her react like that.

I flip her around on my lap so I can look at her face. I watch her ride me, her bare breasts pressed against my chest. I kiss her deeply, my tongue thrust all the way in her mouth. Tasting the last remnants of the champagne.

I can see she’s right on the edge.

So am I. I can only hold on a few more seconds.

I look her in the eyes and I say, very quietly, “I love you, Riona.”

I see her face crumple up like it did at the wedding. Like she’s about to cry. And then she starts to cum, and she buries her face in the side of my neck. She’s clinging to me, grinding against me, and I let go inside of her. What I feel is so much more than sexual release. It’s the relief of saying out loud what I’ve been feeling for so long.

* * *

When I wake in the morning, she’s gone. The sun is streaming in the windows, illuminating the empty spot on the mattress right next to me.

For a moment, I feel a sick swoop of dread. I think I’ve scared her off again.

Then I see the note on the pillow.

Before I snatch it up, I tell myself, Trust her. Trust that she hasn’t run away.

I read the first line in a glance:

Don’t worry Raylan, I haven’t run away.

I smile to myself. I know Riona, and she knows me.

There’s something I have to do this morning. It won’t take long. Please come meet me downstairs at 12:00. I promise, I’ll be there. I want to respond to what you said last night.

xoxo

Riona

It doesn’t say, “Love, Riona.” But after all, we’re talking about a woman accustomed to legal correspondence. I know the “xoxo” alone is a big step for her.