I lift her off her feet and kiss her like it’s the first time—like it’s the last—as if I’ll never get another chance. She melts into me, fingers in my hair, whispering against my mouth,
“In every lifetime…yes.”
“Forever,” I murmur, pulling her closer and capturing her in another heated kiss. When I finally pause, I rest my forehead against hers. “Valentina, I’m sorry for doing this now. I know we have dinner with our parents in two hours, and they expect?—”
She presses a finger to my lips and smiles.
“Shut up. This is perfect. You and me. The way we were always meant to be.” Then she nips at my jaw, her voice low and teasing. “Now, let’s go back inside so you can fuck your fiancé.”
I tip my head back and laugh, already giving in to her pull. Always.
My wife.
I can’t wait to say those words and mean them.
We stumble inside, my face buried in her neck, and I set her down by the fireplace. The black velvet box slips from my grip and rolls under a small table.
Before I can move, Valentina bends to grab it, giving me the most perfect view of her plump little ass. I slap what’s mine, and she yelps, the box clattering to the floor again.
“Leave it,” I say, straightening, arms folded across my chest. “I want to see you do that thing you do. On your hands.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, a grin spreading. “A press handstand?”
“Yeah, that. Only slow it down this time, beautiful. I’m trying to see something.”
Valentina bends, palms flat on the hardwood, her legs straddled. She glances back with a glint of mischief just before raising her hips.
“Like this?”
I don’t answer right away. I’m too busy admiring every line and curve I want to taste and get my hands on.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “Just like that.”
Her shorts are skintight, like she’s been sewn into them, and not a single trace of underwear beneath. Perfect. I drop to my knees, hands roaming down her thighs.
“How long can you hold this position for me?”
She laughs, breath coming quick as she balances. “Maybe the real question is...How good and how fast can you break me?”
“Cute.” My fingers trace the seam between her legs. “Let’s find out.”
In one swift motion, I hook my thumbs under the waistband and tear. The sound of fabric splitting fills the room, followed by her startled gasp. Valentina’s balance falters for a second, and she presses harder into the floor, steadying herself as the ruined shorts fall away.
“Max—” she starts, breathless, but it dies on a sharp inhale when I grip her ass and spread her legs wider.
“Shh.” I lean in, my mouth against her pussy, already wet and begging for me. “Focus on your form, Kolibri.”
Her muscles tremble beneath my hands as I drag my tongue up slowly, savoring my favorite dessert. She moans, arms trembling, but she holds herself up—barely.
“Your hands are shaking a little, baby. You okay?” I rasp against her skin, lips brushing her clit. “Don’t drop yet. I’m not even close.”
She lets out a strangled sound that’s half laugh, half plea.
“I’m…I’m good,” she pants.
“Let’s remedy that.” My grip tightens on her hips, keeping her perfectly still as I devour her with long, deep strokes that make her legs quiver. “One thing about Zermatt,” I say, between flicks of my tongue, “the views are unrivaled. Would you agree?”
Another long stroke. Slow and cruel.
