Night after night, I dreamed of her. Faceless for six months, then last night, it was even more real when I saw her face, but tonight, right now, it’s the most intense moment I’ve ever had.
“You’re perfect,” I tell her as I stare into her blue eyes. And she is. Every single part of her. “We’re perfect together,” I say to her, not able to control what comes out of my mouth.
I don’t know what it is, but around her, I say whatever is on my mind, without holding back or wondering if I should say it or not.
Her eyes catch mine, and her head nods. The most gorgeous mouth I’ve ever seen is in the O that has been haunting my dreams every night.
She slightly shudders, like in my dream, but this time, it’s real. She’s here, in my arms. I pull her even tighter into me before my hands drop from her back and cup her ass, as her walls spasm.
“Xander,” she whimpers, digging her fingers into my shoulders as her breasts heave against my chest.
I taste the salt of her skin, more prominent than in my dreams, and I taste it again, sucking on the curve of her neck, licking her collarbone, elated by every noise that comes out of her glorious mouth.
Her skin is like glitter, shining in the dark. Warm and smooth, it slides against my flesh, melting into me.
“Beautiful. You’re so fucking beautiful,” I tell her as she vibrates harder, and her eyes blink, trying to focus.
How can she be so perfect?
“Xander,” she whimpers, and my balls tighten.
I thrust into her harder. “I...I...oh…,” she cries out as her walls collapse against my cock and send me into a wonderland of adrenaline.
Gripping her harder, I pump into her forcefully, as she oscillates on top of me in the most beautiful, angelic eruption I’ve ever seen.
I keep my arms wrapped around her, stroking her lower back and ass, entwining my legs with hers as she nuzzles my neck. Breathing hard, I don’t move, wanting to keep her right where she is forever. I’m not sure how many times I kiss the top of her head.
I don’t know what she’s pondering, but I’m full of emotions and, if I open my mouth, I can’t guarantee what will come out. So I stroke her head and continue to shower her with kisses, holding her tight.
The memory of feeding her pancakes while she wore a black silk robe, and screwing on her barstool, flies back to me. It was probably four in the morning, and her stomach growled. She admitted she hadn’t eaten that day, and I cooked for her.
“We need pancakes,” I said to her.
“Pancakes?” She looked at me funny.
I grinned at her. “Yeah, pancakes. You stay in bed, and I’ll make them.”
“You want to make me pancakes?” She looked at me like she didn’t believe me.
I laughed and kissed her then got up, threw a towel around my waist, and headed for the kitchen. She came out in her robe and watched me. When they were ready, I sat down on the barstool and pulled her into my lap then fed her, which then led to sex right where we sat.
The memory is crystal clear, and hope grows inside me that the rest of the holes in my mind will eventually be filled.
Charlotte slowly moves her head out of my neck and looks up at me. I peck her lips. Stroking her cheek, I stare into her eyes. “You okay?”
She smiles and nods. “What are you thinking about?”
“Pancakes.”
She laughs. “You must really like pancakes.”
I grin at her. “I do.”
She laughs.
God, her laugh is sexy and sweet.
“It’s so vivid. It gives me hope.”
