“So fucking sweet,” he whispers.

I fumble between us for the button on his jeans and shove them over his hips. His cock bobs free, and I wrap my hand around his thick length.

“Fuck, Blue. Fuck.”

“Please, Lincoln. Please. I need you.” I’ve always needed him. I always will need him. It’s part of me that will never go away.

He rolls off the bed and kicks off his jeans and briefs before pulling a condom out of the nightstand. I wonder how many women he’s had here, but I don’t ask. I don’t want to know.

My thought must be completely transparent, though, because he replies to my unspoken question.

“Only you. No other woman has ever been in my bed.”

He rolls on the condom, and when he moves back between my legs, everything feels so perfect.

Maybe Lincoln is right. Maybe we can do this. Maybe we don’t just have tonight. Maybe we could have forever.

When he pushes inside me, I forget to care about anything but how he makes me feel.

Fifty-One

Lincoln

Sliding into Whitney is like coming home. She’s perfection wrapped in thorns, but the reward is so incredible, you’re willing to risk the sting.

I know I won’t last long in the tight heat of her body, but I will not fucking come until she does one more time. I take my time, savoring every thrust and pump, pretending this could be the last time, even as I tell myself it can’t be.

Her inner muscles flutter around my cock, telling me she’s close. Her breathy little sighs turn into moans as my balls tighten, and I know I don’t have long.

When she clamps down on me and screams my name, I let go, unleashing the most intense orgasm I’ve had since her.

No one can compare to Whitney. Not then. Not ever. And this time, she’s mine for good.

After we clean up, I wrap my arms around her and hold her for hours before falling asleep. Every moment feels precious when you know what it’s like to lose the person who matters most.

For some reason, with Whitney, every time we’re together feels like time is always moving too fast. Always running out.

I fight sleep, not wanting to close my eyes, but I eventually succumb.

Fifty-Two

Whitney

The pillowcase feels like silk against my skin—something I used to be accustomed to, but I’m not anymore and never will be again. My eyes flick open and I look around. One wall is completely glass, and the view beyond it is absolutely breathtaking.

Outside, dark gray walls of rock are topped with tall pines and cedars. At the base of the gorge, the river rushes over rapids, and the sight is so incredible, I swear I can hear the churning water.

Where the hell am I?

I look down and realize I’m naked. The ache between my thighs reminds me of exactly what happened last night.

A glance at the pillow beside the one I woke up on tells me that I didn’t imagine falling asleep wrapped in Lincoln’s arms.