He crawls up the bed until he’s hovering over me, holding my eyes with his the entire time. I draw in a deep breath. This feels different than the other times we’ve been together.

“I don’t want anything between us tonight.” He brushes a strand of hair off my forehead. “I’m clean.”

My teeth press into my bottom lip for a second. “I am too, and I’m on birth control.”

“We don’t have—”

Bringing my hand to palm his cheek, I whisper, “I want to,” and spread my legs in invitation.

Without another word, he pushes inside me, and I fight not to close my eyes so I can keep my gaze locked on his. He moves slowly, almost languidly, in and out of me. All the while, his lips trail over my skin. He drags his tongue from my collarbone to my neck to the shell of my ear, where he whispers how good I feel, how he can’t believe he found me, what an amazing woman I am.

The drag and pull of his cock pushes me closer to orgasm, and when he swivels his hips once he’s fully seated, a soft moan leaves my lips. He repeats the motion until I’m spilling over the edge of a waterfall, coming on a soft cry, and clinging to him.

It might not be the most intense physical orgasm I’ve ever had. But emotionally, it’s by far the most powerful.

He follows me over seconds later, then he drops some of his weight onto me. We cling to each other until he softens inside me.

Our hearts beat in tandem while I try to right my world once again. What just happened wasn’t fucking, it wasn’t sex, it was a whole lot more. We made love, and it’s hard to feel as though something hasn’t shifted between us.

He gets up off me, mumbling something about cleaning up the two of us, and I can’t help feeling nervous over what his reaction to what just happened might be.

Will his past cause him to pull away? Will he double down?

He must collect himself in the bathroom for a moment, because he takes a few minutes to return. But when he does, it’s clear he hasn’t shuttered himself off. His eyes tell me everything I need them to—he’s still in this.

Andrew brings a warm washcloth over to me and cleans me up before throwing the washcloth in my laundry bin. Then we slip under the covers, and he draws me in so I’m half lying on his chest. He strokes his fingertips along my spine while I let my own drift aimlessly over his pecs.