"Rowan..." She breathed, and that was like my battle cry.
I walked her over to the bed and, still holding on to her, laid her down on my satin sheets.
I'd switched from black to royal blue this week, and somehow the gem tone made my fiancée look even more like a masterpiece that belonged in the Louvre.
Aphrodite herself, born out of the churning sea, filling the world with love, passion, and beauty.
"Keep saying that, my love. Keep saying that."
I kissed her lips—I had to. She moaned and wiggled against me, eager to get going.
I was more than happy to oblige. I made my way down her body, nibbling, licking, worshipping every inch of her like the besotted disciple I was.
I could travel the world three times over, and I knew I would never find anything as delicious, as satiating as the woman below me. Literally and metaphorically.
I took my time, a difficult feat when I wanted to ravish her. A little delayed gratification never hurt anybody. Besides, my darling, my light, my love, deserved every bit of pleasure and comfort I could provide her.
But when I made it down to that perfect pussy of hers, it was hard not to rush. I hooked her strong, gorgeous thighs over my shoulders, teasing her for a moment with my fingers before I went to work with my mouth.
Much, much better than emails, that was for sure.
With us approaching four years of being together, I was more than familiar with what got Naomi close to the edge, and what made her hover there, unable to release.
But while I started with the intention to torture her just a bit, my eagerness got the better of me.
When her thighs began to quiver, and her hands scrambled down to grip my hair, I couldn't help it.
I had to chase her orgasm so she would come all over my tongue while screaming my name.
"Fuck, Rowan! I'm gonna… I'm coming!"
Perfection.
Part of me very much wanted to take Naomi apart piece by piece, unraveling her with undiluted bliss, the other part of me was insisting that I was far too dressed for the occasion.
So, although it pained me to part from her, I sat up and shed my clothes as quickly as I could without ripping them.
And if a button popped, or a seam tore, that was a matter for another day when I was at a tailor.
Naomi, however, wasted no time. Sitting up with me, she helped me disrobe, her warm lips pressing little sunbursts into my skin. It only took seconds—it was still far too long to be apart—and I pressed myself against her as quickly as I could, both of us settling into the mattress.
She was just as hot as ever, to the point where I was surprised steam didn't issue from between us. I loved the heat of her, and how our touch would warm me until it was like I was alive too. Another way she pulled me toward a vitality I would never have without her.
And I was happy to spend the rest of my existence paying that back to her.
"Please," she begged, sounding so debauched and wanton, just the way I liked her. "Inside me. Now."
"A little impatient, aren't you, my love?"
She narrowed her eyes at me, furrowing her brow in mock irritation. "I've been dropping hints since I woke up and even gave you a deadline. It's only my patience that stopped me from going downstairs and dragging you up here myself."
"All right, darling." As humorous as it was, I could quite easily picture that scenario in my mind. Also, I didn't mind the image. "For what it's worth, I much prefer the method you chose."
"Of course you do. You got to look at me naked."
She had a point. If I ever stopped immediately being struck still and full of attraction by Naomi in the nude, then I really was dead, and there was no magical resurrection that would make me live again.
However, my fiancée was being a bit too verbose for my taste. It meant I wasn't doing my job right. So, I aligned my cock with her slick entrance and pushed in, relishing the sweet sound that punched out of her mouth.
The two of us moved together, her hips meeting mine with each thrust. I took the time to pull almost all the way out, then sank in again. It was ecstasy, plain and simple. Connection in its purest form.
It wasn't the first time we'd spent ourselves this way, breathing heavy, sliding, pounding, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. And once we were married and on our honeymoon, I had no doubt that I would be repeating the entire dance in many exotic and breathtaking locations.
"Feels… so… good…" Naomi panted between thrusts, still as vocal as she always was. "Do I…?"
"Make me feel good?" I finished for her, knowing what she was trying to ask. "So fucking good."
I leaned down to kiss her, swallowing her gasp. Reaching between us, I stroked her clit with just the right amount of pressure to get her close again. I'd become spoiled whenever we were together, and had gotten used to her climaxing multiple times, whether on my fingers, face, or cock.
"Mmmphf!" she cried as my thumb circled that sensitive spot, only gently brushing it at first before building up tempo and pressure. Her hips began to buck as they chased a wild beat.
"That's it, gorgeous," I murmured, drinking the sight of her in. Perhaps I should use my immortality to learn how to paint, or even sculpt, so I could spend the rest of my life trying to capture her beauty in art.
Perhaps. But right now, I just really wanted her to come on my cock.
I focused hard, listening and feeling, until that telltale flutter happened in her walls. The next moment, she was clamping down on me with all she had, her abs tightening so hard she sat up right into my arms.
Exactly where I wanted her to be.
I held her tightly, rocking the rest of the way through her orgasm. For a moment, I was overwhelmed with the idea that this could really be my life. After so long being lost, I could have something, someone like this.
There was no more being a freak, an abomination, or a magical misfit. There was only Naomi and Rowan, together forever.
Panting, Naomi fell back to the bed, her breasts heaving hypnotically. I could honestly watch that forever, but after a minute, she extended her hand to me. I let her pull me down, and our lips found each other again.
"Ready for your turn?" she asked, smiling wickedly at me when we parted.
"More than ready," I replied, pulsing my hips once more.
Definitely much better than emails.
Thank you so much for reading Swipe Right on Fate.