Pushing up, Harbor hovers over me. As I search his eyes, his hands roam free over my body. He slows, then asks, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m ready to feel you inside me again.”

“I can make that happen.” We start to kiss, but he’s quick to stop. “I’ve been thinking about what you said in the bath. Are you still open to it?”

I tick through the many things said, but only one stands out to me. “I’m on the pill—”

“How do you feel about not using a condom?”

“I just had sex for the first time. You felt amazing to me. I imagine the connection could be even better, so I’m open to it if you are.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Our lips press together again, but then I stop him this time. “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you . . . did you . . .” I’m not sure how to say this without sounding jealous.

His hand caresses my cheek, and he whispers, “I’ve never had sex without using a condom.” Why does this make me feel special?

It shouldn’t be a big deal, but it is. We start kissing again, and one thing leads to another. As usual, patience has left the building. I’m working on removing his jeans, and he’s already managed to get my pants halfway down my legs. But the jersey’s still on.

I’m winning.

But Harbor plays dirty, dipping his hand between my thighs and heading straight to the apex of my legs. As he massages circles over my clit, I move with the sway of his hand. Until his fingers find my entrance and dip in. He slowly drags them back out and over my belly and crosses my chest. Then he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them in.

The daring and erotic act is such a major turn-on. I hurry to remove his jeans and then his underwear, ready to slide down on top of him again and re-capture the electricity that leaves me feeling like a livewire buzzing in bliss.

He then runs a finger wet from his mouth over my lips and kisses me as if he’s tasting me for the first time. “You taste as pure as an angel, like heaven on earth.”

As he spreads my legs, his movements are rough, his touch filled with desperation and determination. He squeezes the outside of my thighs and runs a finger through my lips, then even farther down to touch my ass. Kisses are erratic as our bodies search for purchase. But I can’t hold on because the desire is too strong. I reach between us and angle his penis toward my entrance. He thrusts into me, forcing out a gasp, and my grip on him tightens dramatically.

“Hold on to me,” he says. “This isn’t going to be gentle.”

I’ve just grasped his shoulders when he starts thrusting. It’s hard and deep, the stretching and intensity of our connection that I craved returns. “God, yes. You feel so good.” I dig my nails into the shoulders and then drag them down his back. As if that was the permission he needed, he starts fucking me like he’ll never get another opportunity.