“I think I know how I want to handle this,” I said.
He looked uncertain. “Are you sure? We can just go to sleep if you want.”
“I don’t. I want you inside me. I want my mind off this.” I peeled his underwear down his legs and free of his feet. He didn’t resist.
As soon as I had, he wrapped me up in his muscular arms and kissed me passionately on the lips, his hand moving down my torso to my panties as I stroked his cock. The way he responded so quickly to my touch heated my core.
“I can do that,” he whispered into my ear, his hand hovering over my aching sex. “Let’s take our time.”
Our sex was slow and deeply passionate. Vincent kept himself close to me, cradling me chest to chest as he moved in and out. When we came together, it was the closest I had ever felt to another person. Afterwards, he took care of the condom and came back to scoop me up across his lap.
That was incredible, he said.
“I agree. I’m exhausted.” I was in a serious post-coital bliss, actually.
He took a deep breath. “Kristen,” he said, “I will never let anyone hurt you.”
It was touching that he was still thinking about the situation with Marty. “You don’t have to protect me, Vincent.”
You’re not asking me to, but I will.
I scooched up so my hand rested on his chest and looked into his earnest face. It was at that point that I realized that I really believed it when he said it. Maybe Vincent was my type after all. As I closed my eyes and snuggled closer into his embrace, the last image I saw was the light of my cell phone, the only light in the room. It burned for a second against the backs of my lids then slid away, leaving me to bask in the warmth of the moment.