My One Night: An On My Own Novel by Carrie Ryan (life books to read .txt) 📕

We were still doing our best not to talk about exactly who we were to each other and where we were going in our relationship, but we were also more comfortable with one another. As if we were finding new levels to who we were together, without letting ourselves get too caught up in titles and labels.

Neither of us had mentioned spending the holidays together, but we lived in the same town and would see each other. Still, I would be forced to go to my parents’ for Christmas, and I didn’t want Dillon subjected to that. And I hadn’t been invited to his place, other than casual remarks of them seeing me around.

We weren’t ready for that kind of step, and I was fine with that.

I didn’t want to think about it too hard, though, or I would stress myself out again and complicate things.

Dillon set my bag on the loveseat in the corner and rolled his shoulders back. “Did you have fun tonight?” he asked, and I smiled.

“I had a great time. And not only because Aiden is one of the best chefs I’ve ever met. It’s a privilege to eat his food.”

“As I said, don’t tell him that, or he’s going to get a big ego.”

“I thought you said he already did.” Dillon shrugged and came forward, slowly brushing my hair away from my face.

“He does, but I guess he’s a Connolly. It’s inherent.”

“And yet, I don’t think you do.”

“That’s not what my brothers or roommates would say.”

“Maybe, but you also seem to have some sense of humility. And you mentioned once that you’d thought about becoming a chef, but I didn’t know you were good enough for Aiden to even talk about.”

Dillon shrugged and blushed again.

“Well, I don’t have anywhere near his talent, but I was learning.”

He kept brushing my hair back from my face, slowly leading me towards the bed as he did. I didn’t mind. It was what I wanted. And this felt normal, like coming home.

I was happy.

For the first time in a long time, I felt happy.

“If you ever want to cook for me, I’d love to taste-test.”

“Anything you want, Elise. Anything.”

And then he kissed me.

I returned the kiss, slowly running my hands up and down his back.

When he gently placed me on the bed, lifting my legs so I didn’t have to make an effort to get onto the mattress, I sank into him, wanting more. He tasted of dinner and all Dillon. I loved his flavor, and I knew if I weren’t careful, I could love everything about him.

So, I didn’t think about that. I just let myself live in the moment.

That was something I needed to remind myself over and over again. That I needed to live in the moment.

We slowly kissed each other, letting our hands do the talking.

And when I sank into him more, needing more, he slowly stripped me out of my clothes, and I did the same to him.

He licked my breasts, paying particular attention to the nipples, and when he knelt between my thighs, lapping at my clit and spreading me for his gaze, I blushed but pressed myself against him, needing more. He sucked and he blew cool air on me, and when he latched on, eating me out until I nearly bucked off the bed, I came, clenching my thighs around his face. Blushing, I let my knees fall to the sides, and then he was over me, sliding a condom over his rigid length before moving between my legs again. I brought my legs around his waist, tugging him closer. When he slid into me, I groaned, stretching. This felt like something we had been doing for eons. It felt like peace, perfection. But I pushed those thoughts from my mind once again and just lived in the moment. He kissed me, paid special attention to my neck, my breasts, and then he began to move. We met thrust for thrust, both of us arching. And when he rolled onto his back, and I lifted my hips to ride him, he played with my breasts, and I slid my hands over his, tangling my fingers with his as he cupped me. I met his gaze, his eyes dark. The look I saw there—one of so much emotion, the kind that neither of us would dare speak of—was too much. I came, my body shaking with the orgasm as I fell into the abyss.

It was perfection. It was everything.

And it was utterly overwhelming.

He came with me, shouting my name as I screamed again, slamming into me one last time. I fell onto him, and he collapsed, both of us sweat-slick and holding each other. I could barely breathe, could hardly keep up, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was Dillon and me. And this, just for the night.

He kissed me, and we cleaned ourselves up before we crawled back into bed, both of us still naked and pressed against one another. I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder and his body wrapped around mine. And I felt like I was home.

The next morning came far too quickly, but I still had an afternoon class, and Dillon had a mid-morning one. We showered together, and I got my morning shower orgasm. Laughing, we got ready for the day. Once we were decent, we stumbled downstairs, him carrying my bag, and me wishing I had coffee in my veins.

Everybody in the house was already up, and they looked at us as we came into the kitchen. I knew I was blushing from head to toe. From the looks on their faces, they were well aware of what we had done.

Miles cleared his throat. “Hey, guys,” he said.

I looked between all of them and ducked my head. “Hi,” I said.

I could feel Dillon scowling. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. We just...” Mackenzie began and then blushed, hiding behind Sanders.

Sanders rolled his eyes. “We just realized how thin our walls