I want to worship at the altar of her. I want to remember everything about the way she looked tonight when she stood in the snow, face up to the sky, catching snowflakes.
She’s magic.
And I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to get enough.
She’s glitter glue and glow sticks.
She’s hot chocolate with marshmallows and Charlie Brown Christmas trees.
She’s kind and thoughtful and so full of joy, she glows.
I want to drink her in and learn all her soft sighs and the secrets of her body. I want to make her orgasm over and over until the only name she knows is mine, the only man she remembers is me.
And then I want to take her all over again.
I kiss her at the threshold and walk her up the stairs of our temporary home. I take her into my bedroom, flip on a lamp so I can see her, set her down, and then I do what I imagined.
I slip the red dress off her shoulder, one side at a time, until it pools into a red puddle at her feet. And she does what I imagined, stepping out of her dress, still in those high, fuck-me shoes, and I smile, looking at that slip of red lace with the black embroidery.
“I bet you’re feeling rather proud of yourself at this moment.” She gives a throaty laugh.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say with pretend innocence.
“Saturday. Where’d you get day-of-the-week underwear?”
“They’re custom.”
She half laughs, half groans. “Emma ordered them for you, didn’t she? She must think you’re crazy.”
I shrug. “I don’t really care what Emma thinks.”
“Does this mean you don’t like my cotton panties?”
“It means I fucking love any and all of them. And I like you out of your panties even more.”
At my words, she starts to take them off slowly, and I want to watch her seductive show, but my patience runs out.
“Let me,” I say and grasp the lace. In one smooth motion, I tear the delicate fabric until the scraps fall off her body.
She gasps, but I see her eyes flare in pleasure.
“Sorry,” I growl. But I’m not.
“You’re buying me another pair.”
“I’ll buy you a dozen, and I’ll rip them all off you.”
“Deal,” she says. I back her up until the back of her legs hit the raised bed.
I pick her up and gently set her on it. Her skin glows, dusty with freckles. Her curly hair spreads out around her, partially covering a dainty pink areola and tight nipple. My mouth waters with the need to taste those sweet tits. Her hips flare in a curve I want to worship all night.
I kneel and give her pussy a long lick. Her hips lift off the bed in response.
Her smell and taste make me crazy, but she tugs at my shoulders.
“Hey, big guy, wait.” She moans at the teasing of my tongue. “Oh God, seriously, stop.”
I move up over her, wiping my mouth. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
