His answer isn't in words. It’s in the feeling of his strong hands spreading my ass cheeks, exposing my most private places to his hungry gaze. And then, his mouth is on me.
He doesn't start gentle. He licks a long, hot stripe from my clit all the way to my tight little hole, and my entire body jolts as if I’ve been struck by lightning. His tongue is wicked, talented, and he knows exactly how to use it.
He circles my clit, teasing it with light, flicking touches before sucking it into his mouth, hard. I cry out, my fingers clutching at the bedding as pleasure, sharp and intense, courses through me.
He eats my pussy like a man starved, his face buried between my cheeks. His tongue delves into my wet hole, fucking me in shallow, teasing thrusts while his nose presses against my ass. The sounds are obscene—the wet, slurping noises he’s making, my ragged moans and whimpers.
He adds a finger, sliding it into my cunt to the knuckle, curling it just right to hit that magical spot inside me.
"Lucian, oh god, right there," I gasp, pushing back against his face, shamelessly grinding my pussy against his mouth.
He adds a second finger, stretching me, filling me, his tongue never ceasing its delicious assault on my clit. The pressure builds low in my belly, a coiling spring of pure ecstasy. His fingers pump faster, harder, his tongue flicking relentlessly.
"Come for me, Kimber," he commands, his voice muffled by my flesh. "Come all over my face."
That’s all it takes. The spring snaps, and my orgasm crashes over me in a blinding, soul-shattering wave. I scream his name as my pussy convulses around his fingers, spasming with a force that steals my breath. My whole body trembles, and I collapse bonelessly onto the bed, panting and spent.
He doesn't stop immediately. He laps at me gently, cleaning my cum with his tongue, drawing out the last tremors of my release. When he finally pulls away, I feel empty, but only for a moment. I hear the soft thud of his shoes hitting the floor, the whisper of his zipper. I feel the dip of the mattress as he kneels behind me again.
His hands are on my back, expertly finding the row of tiny buttons on my gown. He undoes them one by one, his knuckles brushing against my spine. I shiver at his touch. He peels the dress down my arms, the heavy silk whispering against my skin until it’s a puddle of white fabric around me. He unfastens my bra, and I shrug it off.
Now I’m completely bare except for the garter and stockings.
He turns me over, and his gaze is so intense, so full of raw, naked emotion that it takes my breath away. He looks at me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen.
"Kimber," he whispers, and then he’s kissing me again.
This kiss is different from the frantic ones before. It’s deep, slow, and full of a breathtaking tenderness. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it’s the most erotic thing in the world. His hands roam my body, learning every curve and dip. He cups my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my already-hardened nipples, sending little jolts of pleasure straight to my core.
He settles between my thighs, his hard, thick cock nudging at my entrance. He looks into my eyes, his dark ones searching mine.
"I love you," he says, his voice thick with emotion.
"I love you, too," I reply, my voice catching in my throat.
And then he pushes inside me. He sinks into my wet heat in one slow, deep stroke, filling me completely. I gasp at the sheer perfection of it, the way he stretches me, the way he fits inside me as if he were made for me. He stays still for a moment, letting me adjust, his forehead resting against mine. Our breaths mingle, our hearts beating in the same frantic rhythm.
Then he begins to move. His thrusts are slow at first, deliberate, each one a powerful statement of possession. The raw, real lovemaking we’d craved all day is finally happening. It’s not frantic or desperate; it’s deep and profound, a connection that goes far beyond the physical.
Our bodies move together in a primal, ancient dance, his cock stroking every sensitive inch of my inner walls. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust. The room fills with the sounds of our pleasure—our soft moans, the slap of skin against skin, his whispered words of love and praise. His name is a prayer on my lips as he drives us both higher, closer to the edge, our passion a burning, all-consuming fire.
This honeymoon is definitely a winner.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Kimber
The gentle sway of the hammock is making me drowsy. It's been two years since we were first at this couples resort inthe middle of nowhere. This time I'm already carrying a baby. Our second child. Lucian is bursting out of his skin with joy and hoping for a girl this time.
It's still too early to tell what gender the baby is, so he is stressed out about it. I wouldn't mind another son, just as beautiful as his father. I rub my hand against my belly. I'm barely showing, but that presence is there, always, since we created it.
This time we got one of the beachfront cabins and I think it's the best investment we've made. I wake up to an amazing view of the sea, and we have our breakfast on the front deck. This hammock is for two people, but my husband is out finding something. He was vague about it.
There's a book in my lap, but I'm bored and want to cuddle with my husband. As if conjuring him out of thin air, he comes through the beachside and is carrying a coconut with a straw in it. I love coconut water, especially if it's ice cold.
"I got you a present."
