I might not be ready to tell Dean all those things yet, but I felt the certainty in my own chest solidify. He could keep thinking this was fake for now. But for me? The feelings were real. I was tired of pretending they weren’t.

Dean slid himself into me with passionate care. He was watching me so carefully that I realized he was looking for any signs of anxiety.

It was sexy and sweet and heartbreaking all at the same time. I’d never felt so taken care of. So protected.

He bent to kiss me softly once on the lips, hips starting to move in a slow, agonizingly pleasant rhythm.

I kissed him back, wrapping my hands around the back of his neck to kiss him deeper before sliding them down the broad muscular shape of his back. His weight on me felt good. It felt safe.

I hooked one leg around him, urging him deeper into me and faster.

As if he’d been waiting for permission, Dean picked up his pace, pounding into me until our skin slapped loudly in the quiet room.

I bent my knees, spreading my legs wider as I drank up the delicious feeling of his friction inside me–the wonderful fullness and knowledge that our minds were both fully fixated on the same act and the same space. It was a kind of closeness I don’t know that I’d ever felt with another person, but I felt it now, and I could see how addicting it could become.

Time and space seemed to fill with static until I was just a bundle of sensation and instinct. Somewhere distantly, I could hear myself moaning and feel my hands digging into his sweaty skin. I could feel the pumping of his thick cock into me, stretching my walls and my entrance like no man ever had.

I lost all sense of time until I felt Dean tense and his breathing grow ragged. My eyes rolled back as my orgasm tore through me like white heat, radiating from my core to my fingertips and toes.

“Oh my God,” I breathed as Dean rolled off me.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “If every dinner together with wine is going to end up like this, I can’t promise I won’t invite you out to eat again.”

“I think I was the one who suggested the dinner, actually.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow. “Are you saying this was all part of your plan?”

“I gave up trying to have a plan when it comes to you.”

He smiled, but got a distant look in his eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked.

“I was thinking about that dream of yours. Leaving the city behind to come live in a place like this. And I thought it’d be a shame if that dream ended with you alone.”

My heart started to pound. What was he saying?

“So,” he continued. “I think you should get back on the horse when this is all over. Give dating another try.”