Master of Self Control Aldo lazily increased his speed, taking his time so Gloria could feel every ridge and vein of his shaft as he pumped her toward her next orgasm. She wanted to memorize this moment. The feel of his chest pressing against hers, flattening her breasts to him. The sweat that slicked both their bodies was evidence of their desperate need for each other. He glided into her, stretching her tight around him.

Gloria felt every nerve ending in her body wake up and start firing. Her body had one purpose: to climax or die trying. That miraculous quickening tickled her core as he drove into her once more. He was so careful with her. So gentle. And it was beautiful. Their bodies were a work of art, a constellation of scars and strength and grit. Together they made something beautiful.

“Aldo.” She couldn’t close her eyes on his gaze. Not when it enhanced the connection of their bodies.

“I feel you, Gloria,” he gritted out. “I feel you getting tighter, sweetheart.” He swore, sweat dotting his forehead as he carried them both toward the finish line.

“Can you…with me?” She tried to pry the words out around a tortured moan of pleasure.

His breathing tripped up, and she felt the change in him, letting a tiny bit of control go. He stared into her as his cock flexed inside her.

They groaned together. Gloria dug her heels into Aldo’s very firm ass cheeks. She wanted to bite them, wondered if that was weird, and decided she didn’t care.

His dark words whispered against her throat told her he liked it. And when he sank into her again, he lifted her hips with those strong, callused hands.

Something caught fire inside her, ignited. She clenched around him, fingers stabbing into those broad shoulders. Her entire body went rigid as the first wave of the orgasm paralyzed her.

“Aldo!” She screamed his name, and he was right there with her.

She felt the first jet of his release explode deep inside her, and her world went bright. Yes. Perfection.

His breath stopped, heart stopped, body frozen for one heartbeat, and then they were coming together. His release, the mingling of their bodies’ arousals was a baptism of sorts for Gloria. This was what sex should be. This bonding, this joining. This wall of pleasure and beauty that they built together only to be buried under.

This was love.

“I think we should get married.” Aldo gasped out.

Gloria laughed, unwittingly clamping down on the penis still buried inside her. He groaned and shifted his hips against her.

“Are you okay?” Aldo asked, pressing his lips to her hair. He sounded…beautifully wrecked.

“What’s better than okay?” she asked, nuzzling into his chest. With one finger, she traced the outline of her birds that he’d put on his skin.

“Good? Great? Perfect?” he teased.

“Amazed,” she decided. “Amazed and humbled and happy and glowing.”