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I find the zipper at the back of her dress. It’s long, a slow line of tiny teeth running from between her shoulder blades all the way down to the swell of her hips, and I take my time. I lower it an inch at a time, kissing her the whole way, feeling the silk part under my hands and her warm skin appear beneath it.

She shivers.

“Cold?” I murmur.

“No.”

The dress slides from her shoulders. It catches for a moment on the curve of her hips, then falls, and pools on the floor around her feet like spilled cream.

I step back so I can see her.

She stands in the candlelight in nothing but a scrap of white lace. Soft everywhere. Her full breasts, the dip of her waist, the generous curve of her belly and hips and thighs. Every inch of her lit gold by Milana’s candles and the city through the window. She doesn’t cover herself. She doesn’t try to hide one single part of her from me. She just stands there and lets me look, with her chin up and her cheeks pink.

I’m on my knees before I’ve realized I’ve moved.

“Theo,” she breathes.

“Let me look at you.” I put my hands on her hips. I press my mouth to the soft skin just below her navel, and feel her breath catch. “I’ve been waiting all day. Let me look at my wife.”

Her fingers slide into my hair.

I look up at her from the floor of our wedding suite, the woman who walked into my gym and drank my terrible coffee because it would have been rude not to. The woman who held fence posts and proposed with a daisy and pocketed my father’s bread rolls.

My wife.

“Every day,” I tell her.

She smiles down at me, soft and sure and certain. The way she does everything.

“Then you’d better get started,” she says.

So I do.

EVARIA

He slowly drags the elastic of my lace thong down, pressing his face against my mound and inhaling my scent.

I know what I do to him. The same thing I’ve done to him every night since I asked him to marry me.

He is insatiable for me. Sometimes, he will sit across the room and just look at me. His cock twitching and leaking until he can’t stand it any more. Then he will fuck me until I’m shaking all over and biting down on anything to keep quiet.

That’s why we made the decision to get our own place as soon as the honeymoon is over. When my husband makes me want to scream, I want to be able to scream.

I step out of the thong and he takes the opportunity to lick at my slit, making me tremble with anticipation.

He stands and undresses while I watch and tease my nipples between my fingers.

“You’re so perfect, Evaria. So soft and sexy,” he says, his eyes darkening as he watches my fingers play with my nipples.

He strips until he is naked, then takes his thick cock in his hands and squeezes until a drop of clear precum beads at the tip.

“Sit on my face tonight?’ he asks, and I nod.

He moves the the bed and lies on his back, his head dropping backwards off the edge. I walk to him, turn, and lift my leg until his head is between my thighs. The bed is the perfect height, and I don’t have to lift on my tip toes or bend my knees for his tongue to reach me.

I fist both hands in his hair and hold his head between my legs while his tongue begins swirling through my slick.

I’m close within minutes, my hips rocking, my clit desperately trying to find the friction it needs. Just as I’m about to reach the point of no return, he pulls away sharply.