Not just surviving. Not enduring. But living. Truly living. In this man's arms, I finally felt it.
For the rest of the night, we barely rested.
We tried every corner of the room. He had me ride him, controlling the rhythm from below; he took me from behind, one hand gripping my ass, the other kneading my breast; we made love in the shower, hot water cascading over us as he pressed me against the slick tile wall, entering me again and again.
Every time, he brought me to new heights. Every time, I felt myself drowning deeper in him—in the fire of his golden eyes, in the strength of his body, in the feeling of being cherished and desired.
Before dawn, we finally collapsed in bed, the room heavy with the scent of s*x. I lay on my side, him spooning me from behind, one arm possessively over
