I give him a pout.
“I’ll be good,” I say demurely.
His grin nearly stops my heart. “That’s my girl.”
My heart beats faster with every perfect thrust, with the way he builds a rhythm and makes me feel. Nuzzling my temple, his voice is choked as he says, “I love you, Cosette. When I saw him hurting you…” He can’t talk for a minute, then he takes ashuddering breath. “Before that, I was going to let him live, for you.”
“And I love you for that,” I whisper into his ear. “I know you wanted revenge. I know you wanted him to be punished for what he’s done to your family. For what he planned to do. But you were willing to let him go…for me.”
We don’t talk for long moments. I wrap my ankles around his muscled, inked body. His tats are irresistible, and I can’t help tracing them with my fingers while he weaves his fingers through my hair, keeping the steady tempo of perfect ecstasy going. We roll so I’m on top and he’s below me, never losing the perfect rhythm of our lovemaking.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. “And I love you. I won’t ever doubt you again, I promise.”
I give him my own brand of a growl. “Now who needs a spanking?” I tease.
And that’s when the sweet part of our lovemaking ends.
He rolls and pins me beneath him, under his full weight. My wrists are captured in his hands, my body pressed to the bed as he lifts his hips and thrusts so deeply I gasp for air. Pulling his cock out nearly completely, he returns with a perfect thrust.
“Okay, okay, I get the point,” I groan, breathless.
He slows our rhythm. We make love slowly and tenderly, savoring every moment.
It feels so perfect, it’s like the first time.
“I love you,” he whispers as my body arches and the first spasm of pleasure spirals through me.
“I love you,” I echo, as he groans in ecstasy, on the cusp of climaxing.
“Come with me,” he whispers in my ear. “I want us to remember this. I don’t want to forget.”
I close my eyes and nod.
He holds me against him.
My eyes fly open when another thrust nearly threatens to split me apart. Another makes me moan for him, and his final thrust pushes me right off the edge of oblivion as he whispers words of love and devotion. His body shudders with pleasure, and with a groan of ecstasy, he empties himself inside me.
We collapse in each other’s arms, exhausted and content. I think we doze a little. Opening my eyes, I find him half on me, half sprawled on the bed, his perfect body like a carved statue of a god.
It already looks like his wounds are healing.
“Are you Superman?” I ask.
“If I am,” he says with a wry smile, “you’re my kryptonite.”
“I’m honored, kind sir.”
He chuckles. “There she goes again. Are you hungry, baby?”
“Only for you.”
We make love again, joined in our mutual apology.
And then we sleep. Actuallysleep.It’s long and blissful and restful.
We wake up the next morning ready to talk.
I thread my fingers through his.
