It’s sensual.
It’s expressive.
It’s momentous.
It’s actual love making.
My hands slide under her shirt, seizing her breasts as she works me at a deliciously languorous pace.
Her tongue traces my jawline. She rolls it from my mouth to my neck and back again before licking my lips in a seductive technique that should be illegal.
When she finally presses her hot mouth against mine again, I pull my head away. The need to look into her eyes is overwhelming.
‘I love you.’ The weight of my words hangs in the air between us as she hovers at the top of my dick.
‘I love you too,’ she says, sliding deliciously downwards again.
Her climactic moan sends my own release pulsing through me, straight to the depths of her.
Plunging my hands into her hair, I rest my head against her breasts once more.
‘I never stopped, you know…’ She must know. It doesn’t take a genius to work out my first three albums were entirely based on her. On us.
‘Neither did I.’
We remain wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time.
Hours later, in the hot tub on the penthouse balcony, we share a bottle of red wine as the stars sparkle above us. Below, a million glinting Christmas lights twinkle from the castle grounds.
It’s cold enough that my breath plumes like smoke before my face, but between the scorching hot-tub bubbles and the fact Sasha is utterly naked beside me, I’m hotter than hell.
Soft fingers entwine with mine beneath the wet blanket of water as she slips closer to rest her head against my shoulder.
‘You know it feels cold enough to snow.’ Sasha gazes up before talking a sip from her glass.
‘I don’t know. It feels pretty hot to me.’
She smirks. ‘I hope you use better lines than that in your songs.’
‘Of course I do. Do you remember the line in “The Mark You Made”?’
‘What’s “The Mark You Made”?’ She’s still stargazing. If it were anyone else, I’d bet a million dollars they were teasing me right now, but her face is perfectly straight and given our history, I’m pretty skilled at reading her.
‘You have to be joking?
‘About what?’ She finally tears her eyes from the sky to look at me.
‘“The Mark You Made”. The song I wrote. The title of my first album.
‘Oh. I can’t say I know it.’ She shrugs, and offers a half-apologetic smile.
I can practically feel my jaw hit the floor of the tub. ‘You what?’
‘I don’t know it.’ She looks down. ‘I couldn’t… I never listened.’
‘Holy fuck. At the risk of sounding like a totally entitled twat of a rockstar, how the fuck did you miss it? The album went platinum. The song was used on a multi-billion dollar Hollywood movie soundtrack.’
‘Yeah, actually I think I heard that somewhere. You must be super proud of yourself. You’ve done so well, Ryan.’ Her fingers squeeze mine.
