“You feel so good,” he groans, pupils blown. “Your pussy is my drug, and fucking you is my sole addiction. The one high I’ll chase until my last breath.”
I place my palms on his chest, his heart thumping under my touch like a wild beast, whispering above his lips. “Then come, join me in euphoria.”
He braces against the headboard and throws his head back—a male masterpiece unraveling above me. Muscles rippling with the strength of a hundred warriors and sharp lines carved in abody created by the god of temptation himself, he moves above me as seductive and deep as the ocean.
He comes in long spurts, pumping me with his seed—a divine hedonist for my eyes only. The sight is sublime—pure eroticism, captivating me.
If it were possible, I’d freeze time right here and now to capture his eyes lighting up, gazing at me with pure adoration, his smile stretching across his face.
“I love you,” he says, brushing a kiss on my lips.
“I love you,” I sigh dreamily.
Slipping out of me, I feel the loss instantly, but he stands up, stretching out his hand to me.
I take it. This is my man. My husband. My impossible dream come true.
Around the breakfast table,I look out the window longingly, the summer is in full bloom, and I’m regretting not going on a honeymoon.
As if he can sense my sadness, he says, “Let’s go away once the summer classes end.”
The corners of my mouth arch up in a smile, my mood instantly switching to bright. “Let’s.”
He exhales a sigh of relief as if the last weight on his shoulders dropped, easing the constant pressure.
After finishing breakfast, I rest my face between my palms, simply contemplating him. “You’re my husband.”
“I am, wife.” He grins, the boyish smile adding some more to his charm. “Needed some time to accept it?”
I giggle.
“What do you want to see?”
“All the touristy stuff.” I shrug, wishing to discover his city, going from a transplant to someone who knows every nook and cranny of this metropolis. It is my home after all.
He scrunches his nose but nods, unable to refuse me, making me feel adored and cherished. My heart soars, giving me the impression of floating in the sky, each star a dream I only have to touch to materialize.
Standing up, I reach him and settle myself between his legs, needing to feel as close to him as possible to share all these wondrous feelings he ignites in me.
His hands move to my sides, gripping my waist. The possessiveness undoes me, and I lower my head to kiss him, savoring the serene moment.
He slaps my ass, groaning low in his throat. “Go dress before I change my mind.”
I rush to the walk-in closet with a smile stuck on my face, pick a simple beige knee-length A-line dress, and slip on some flats.
Letting my hair fall in waves down my back, I apply light makeup and watch him change into a polo and some slacks. He looks good in anything he wears, so no wonder I constantly salivate at the sight of him.
Hand in hand, we go out, the intimacy that has been lacking since I moved here returning, stepping out of the shadow, exposed by our love.
Throughout the day, we walk for miles, but I love uncovering this city with him by my side.
We pass a neighborhood, and he stops in front of a dilapidated building.
I sense there’s history there, so I squeeze his hand in silent support.
He glares at it. “I grew up in this house. I don’t remember being happy, but occasionally, my mom would smile at me, hugging me, preparing meals.”
“The brain latches onto the bad memories rather than on the happy ones for self-preservation.”
