Page 92 of The Saloon Girl's Only Shot

She kissed him back, wanting him to know she loved him with her whole being. As their kiss deepened and passion ignited, they kissed with more hunger and urgency.

“Will you stay here tonight?” he drew back to ask. “You’ll come back to me? For always?”

She nodded. They rose and doused the lights, leaving the dog snoozing by the stove.

They prepared for bed and crawled beneath the blankets where they reached for each other and twined together in a way that was deliciously familiar. Her head notched just so into the hollow of his shoulder. The firmness of his knee pushed between hers. His chin rested on her plaited hair, and her hand rested on his chest where she could feel the beat of his heart.

They both sighed as though it was a homecoming.

It was. Emotion rose behind her eyes, and she sniffed back a rush of tears, chest swelling with love for him. She tilted up her mouth, searching for his.

He groaned and covered her lips, kissing her long and slow and thoroughly. His hands moved on her, pulling her closer, as though he wanted to pull her inside his skin.

She wanted the same thing. She wanted them so close they’d be like bubbles that popped the inner wall and became a single entity, bigger. Filled with wonder and color and something invisible yet pure.

When she started to seek his skin under his untucked shirt, he whispered, “Temperance.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“I do,” he groaned. “I really do.” They squirmed in a struggle to remove their clothes without breaking their kiss or letting go of each other, unable to cease touching.

When they were naked and their discarded clothes were nested around them, he started to pull away.

“You don’t have to wear it. You can pull out.”

“You trust me?” His hand cradled the side of her face, and his lips nuzzled her cheekbone.

“Shouldn’t I?”

“You can, yes.” He kissed her tenderly. “I want to look after you in every way. Always.”

“Then make love with me. I need you, Owen.”

“I need you too.” He kissed her again, longer. Deeper.

They ran their hands over each other, fondling, caressing, exploring. Eliciting hisses and soft moans.

“You’re so hard.”

“You’re so soft.”

He rolled atop her, and she opened her thighs and brought her knees to his waist. Their hands bumped as they both tried to guide him in the darkness. He paused to stroke her, delving and preparing, then the wide dome of his sex was pressing— There.

As he slowly filled her, her whole body came alight. His hot mouth opened on the side of her neck. He shook.

She slid her hands across his naked back and roamed them across his firm buttocks, digging her fingers into their firmness as he flexed and began to thrust.

“I missed this,” she whispered.

“I missed you. God, you feel so good. I love you, Temperance. I love you so much.”

She felt his love. She gloried in it, feeling divine. She arched and gave herself fully to his powerful thrusts, moaning unabashedly.

“Tell me when.”

“Soon. Don’t stop. Oh, fuck, Owen.”

He bent his knee and tucked his hand beneath her tailbone, tilting her pelvis so his thrusts slammed a fraction more deeply. They landed more firmly against that tantalizing spot that had her clamping onto him, fisting her hand in his hair and saying, “Harder. Harder.”