“Do you think your neighbor would lend you a cup of coffee if you needed one?” she asks, a smile curving her lips.
“Not just lend it,” I murmur, leaning in, brushing my nose just behind her ear before reaching for her hand again. “I think she’d bring it herself... before I even realized I needed it.”
Cecilia laughs and I lace my fingers with hers.
“Come see the kitchen,” I say, my tone teasing. “I’m afraid I was even more obvious there.”
We pass beneath the archway. The hardwood floors give way to the cool geometry of black-and-white tile. The kitchen is spacious, functional, and cozy.
Her gaze moves through the space until it stops on the cabinetry. The cabinets rise all the way to the ceiling in a pale sage green. Glass-front doors reveal their contents, illuminated beneath antique bronze pendants.
“Now I understand the last-minute detail you said they were adding,” she says, her fingers tracing the cool edge of the round marble table at the center of the room.
“Maybe you were on my mind when I was speaking with the designer,” I say, leaning back against the marble counter, arms folded, watching how naturally she belongs here. “Though you being on my mind isn’t exactly news. And when it came time for the final touches... it became obvious I’d used your kitchen as my reference.”
I move around the table and stop behind her, my hands holding her by the waist.
“I want this place to be ours, Cecilia. In all the ways that actually matter.”
I lean in, my mouth near her ear.
“What do you think?” I ask. “Can you imagine slipping across the street to share a glass of wine with me in this kitchen?”
She turns to face me, her smile already there.
“Much more than just one glass.”
Her hands rise to my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulls me down to her. We kiss, and it deepens as we take our time. I follow her lead, my hand firm at her waist, bringing her body right up to mine.
When we part, we’re both catching our breath. She looks at me, smiling. “Will you show me the rest?” she asks.
I take her hand, lace my fingers through hers, and lead her forward, ready to show her that she’s been present here in far more than color choices or borrowed lines of design.
“Just like that, amore,” I growl, gripping her ass and bucking my hips upward, matching her pace as she rides me.
After finishing the tour upstairs, we headed back down to the living room. We ended up on the couch, and what started as a simple make-out session quickly turned into a need for each other that we couldn’t ignore. Now she’s straddling me on the green cushions, her bare skin hot against my chest where my shirt hangs open, buttons undone, while my boxers and pants are pushed down to my hips.
Cecilia rides me in the way she knows drives me crazy. It feels like a dream being inside her like this. Just our skin connecting at every point, with nothing between us. I lean forward to capture a nipple in my mouth, suckling it hard, biting the peak and pulling most of her breast into my mouth, sucking harder to soothe the ache.
When I glance up, I notice her attention has drifted behind us. To the mirrored wall.
My beautiful, wicked vixen.I nip at her breast again, harder, snapping her gaze back to mine.
“Do you like seeing us like this?” I ask, seizing control of the rhythm and setting a punishing pace. “Do you like seeing exactly what I do to you?”
I pull her bottom lip between my teeth, sucking hard before biting down.
“Yes, yes. I love you. All of you,” she whimpers.
Her pussy clamps down around my cock in that way that drives me fucking insane.
I keep thrusting into her, my mouth devouring one nipple, then the other.
Cecilia tangles her fingers in my hair as she comes, moaning my name right into my ear. I follow her over the edge moments later, filling her and feeling her milk me until the very last drop.
Even knowing she has an IUD, I can’t help but splay my hand over her belly, wondering if the day will come when filling her like this carries more consequence than just instant pleasure.
She collapses on my chest, and I throw my head back, catching my breath.
