CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Byron guides me to the end of the aisle where there’s a staircase. The wood steps creak beneath our climb that delivers us to a large, open space. Square bales are stacked from floor to ceiling, but there’s a section near the front that’s empty.
“The hayloft?” I can’t recall visiting this part of the barn before and spin in a slow circle.
Byron approaches me from behind, settling his hands on my hips. “It’s comfortable.”
My head rests on his chest and I glance up until our gazes connect. “I’m failing to see how getting poked by straw will be pleasant.”
He grinds into me, revealing how hard I get him when we’ve barely touched. “You’re about to get poked by something bigger than straw.”
Desire burns through me to pool in my lower belly. “I thought making love was supposed to be slow and sensual.”
“Doesn’t matter how fast we go. I’m still filling you to the brim. And look.” He tilts my chin to the oversized skylight above. “We’re going to make love under the stars without freezing our asses off.”
My butt rocks against him to the pulsing thrum that’s beginning to consume me. “When does that start?”
He sweeps my hair to the side and peppers kisses along my jaw. “Right now, menace.”
And then his wall of muscle disappears. Byron stalks to a trunk in the corner that I didn’t notice. Its rusty hinges squeak open and he digs inside. A patterned blanket is in his grip when he straightens to stride back to me.
“Why do you have that in the hayloft?” Seems like a nightmare for fabric of any kind.
His brown eyes gleam in the low lighting as he spreads it out on the floor. “Ronnie likes to have tea parties and picnics up here. Pretty sure you’ve attended a few.”
That detail slipped my mind in the heat of this moment. A swoop flips my belly. “Gosh, you’re such a good dad. It’s almost unbelievable.”
His lips kick up into a smirk. “I’m also a really good boyfriend. After I’m done dicking you senseless, you’ll be completely infatuated with me.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Not on your daughter’s play blanket.”
He grunts as if I’ve offended him. “This is new. I’ve never had a reason to use it.”
“Saved for a special occasion?” My heart drums to a chaotic beat when his smolder blazes into me.
“Can’t think of a better one,” Byron rasps. “C’mere, baby.”
One of my brows ticks up. “Baby?”
“Pairs well with honey. We’re sticking together for always.” He extends an arm toward me.
All I have to do is take it. The distance between us closes at a tortuous pace, giving my sanity a second to recover. It’s been through a lot of adjustments lately. Once I’m within reach, Byron pulls me tight against him. Our mutual affection is a feral beast that’s about to be sated.
We shed layers like thick, armored walls crumbling down.
Discarded clothes pile on the floor in a rush to expose our scars.
With each article dropped, I feel exposed but seen.
Byron’s fingers unclasp my bra and the final barrier is tossed away.
We stand bared to each other—loved and accepted with our flaws on display.
After he guides me down onto the blanket, I bury my nose in the woolly fibers. “It smells like home.”
Byron lowers himself on top of me, propping up on an elbow as I lift my bent legs to bracket his hips. “What’s that smell like?”
My lashes flutter shut as I give myself permission to be vulnerable.
“Your addictive cologne that reminds me of the forest in spring. A healing caress I hadn’t felt before.
Hazelnut coffee that you brew to barista quality.
Dirty talk that’s so filthy it makes my toes curl.
The warmth of your smolder on a lonely night.
Things we’ve never done but will together. Everything you’ve given me.”
“Damn,” he breathes. If I’m not mistaken, there’s a slight shine in his stare. “That’s…”
“What you mean to me, but there’s plenty more where that came from.”
Byron gulps. “Not sure I can express myself quite as eloquently.”
“Don’t have to use words. Just show me.” With my ankles crossed behind his ass, I give him a gentle pull for encouragement.
The tip of his cock slips along my arousal, nudging my slick entrance in greeting. “Ready?”
I nod, but give him verbal confirmation too. “Yes.”
Byron pushes into me with care and control, making my body accept every inch he has in excess.
The twinge from him stretching me steals my breath and I gasp.
His lips slant over mine to take advantage of the opportunity.
It’s a chaste kiss, but binds us tighter.
Static crackles and buzzes wherever we touch. The contact is magnetic.
Once I’m split apart beneath him, a calm sensation floods in. It’s the long-awaited sunlight after a lifetime in darkness. We’re joined completely. He’s all I see and feel. My tongue sneaks out to taste him, inhaling his signature scent along the way. My senses are consumed.
That’s when Byron pulls all the way out just to slide back in.
The thick length of him filling me in a single stroke is climax-worthy.
I cry out and cling to him. He repeats the motions, getting into a steady rhythm.
His groan is guttural and already bordering on desperate, meeting the thrill sparking under my skin.
A blissed-out smile forms, whisking me away into a dreamy state. “Damn, my good boy really loves me.”
“That’s it, baby.” He strokes my cheek with such reverence, a lump clogs my throat. “Your love is stunning. It glows from every part of you.”
I tremble when he glides deep. “Fuck, why does it feel so good?”
“Your guard is finally down. I’m in all the way.”
“Gosh, that’s erotic and romantic. I’m doomed,” I whine.
Chemistry like this is a myth, or it was until now. Our connection buzzes in my veins and I clench around him. Byron jolts, breaking stride. The disjointed gait makes this even more significant. We’re in this together.
His tempo evens out again, driving me higher with every thrust. The blanket under me cushions the steady friction.
He’s right—this space is comfortable. The air is stagnant but not stale.
There’s a clean quality that’s either from the organic feed or the purging of our suffering. I breathe it in deeply.
My nails drift along his sides, tempted to dig in and never let go. It’s just that euphoric. Byron’s hands collect mine, fingers threading together, as he tugs my arms straight overhead. This brings us impossibly closer. Our noses and foreheads brush with each gentle stroke.
I capture his gaze with mine. “Does love always feel like this?”
“You tell me. I want to hear more of those thoughts you’ve kept locked away. Spill them for me,” he urges on a lazy entry.
“It’s more than sex.” I arch against the restraints he’s created. “We’re sharing our souls.”
His chuckle is seduction wrapped in kinky fantasies. “Just like that, menace.”
“Your turn,” I insist.
“It’s never been like this,” he admits. “What I feel for you is truly indescribable. It’s like you’ve brought me back to life. Given me a new purpose. I’m overwhelmed by you.”
The naked adoration in his tone wobbles my bottom lip. “Is it weird that I want to cry?”
“Let it out,” Byron croons. “I’ll be here to catch you.”
A single tear tracks down my temple, freeing a drop of pain. Several follow the same path. The purifying drizzle provides room for clarity to reach me. A choked exhale escapes next. This was always going to happen. We were meant to be here.
With that realization, I submit to the throb hammering in my core. Each spike of stimulation prepares to obliterate me. Byron’s pace increases to feed our lust. We still haven’t hit the peak, but it’s looming just ahead.
Strain pinches his features. “Is this enough for you?”
“More than I can handle,” I mumble. “You’re fixing what you didn’t break.”
His lips brush against mine. “Give me all that sweetness.”
I nip at him. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Think I will, menace.”
My legs cinch around his waist and I start to buck into his steady movements. “Finish it, stud. And then you’ll have to scoop me off this floor. I won’t be able to walk.”
“Fuck, baby. I love you,” Byron whimpers in my ear.
That fragile sound is what undoes me. The orgasm hits me like a teetering force. I’m hovering over the edge, tipping into oblivion. White light streaks across my vision as the first quakes take hold. Pressure bears down on me until it’s difficult to breathe.
Byron shoves into me a final time, succumbing to his own release.
Our ecstasy collides in a frantic crash.
I gasp while the relief surges to electric heights.
The impact is intense and blinding. Spasms twitch through my limbs as he struggles to support his weight.
In the end, we hold each other close through the revival.
“Thank you,” I mumble weakly. It feels like my muscles are replaced with jelly.
Byron drops a sloppy kiss on my mouth that’s lax with labored exhales. “Told you the dicking would be good.”
“You weren’t lying.” My palms rove over the expanse of his back. “That’s a love worth believing in.”