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Her eyes flew open. She looked down at his beautiful, strained face, jaw clenched, eyes locked on her like she was the only thing in existence.
“Cal, baby…” she panted, still trembling around him. She leaned in, lips brushing his ear, voice low and filthy. “Come for me, husband. Fill me up. I want it— I want every drop of your cum deep in my cunt.”
The word. The first time she’d ever said it to him, and it hit him like a spark on dry tinder.
Cal’s control snapped with a deep, broken groan. His hips snapped up harder; still careful, still reverent, but faster now, chasing his own release while she clenched around him.
“Sage! Princess…” he sounded so raw and open.
Sage smiled wildly as tears fell.
“Yes— yes— just like that,” she gasped, riding him through it. Another orgasm crashed over her, smaller but sharper, making her cry out and press down as hard as she could. “Come inside me, Baby. Fill your wife. Give me everything. I want your baby… please…”
Cal stiffened beneath her with a guttural sound that sounded almost pained. His cock swelled impossibly thicker inside her, pulsing hard as he finally let go. Thick, hot ropes of seed flooded her deepest parts — pulse after pulse, painting her womb. Sage pressed down with everything she had, grinding in tight little circles, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood as she hoped — prayed — that this moment would create new life inside her.
“I love you baby,” he gasped as the moment stretched further and longer.
Wave after wave rolled through her as he emptied himself, her body milking every drop while fresh, trembling orgasms rippled through her. She held him tight, forehead pressed to his, both of them shaking, breathing the same air, hearts hammering against each other.
The grotto spun gently around them — candlelight, steam, stars, and the quiet sound of water.
Sage smiled through happy tears, whispering against his lips, “I love you too baby…my mountain man…my husband.”
CAL
Cal held her close, still buried deep inside her, both of them trembling in the aftermath. Steam curled around their joined bodies. Her forehead rested against his, their breaths mingling slow and warm. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest; fast, then gradually settling into the same rhythm as his own.
My wife.
The word echoed through him like a prayer. Sage Meridian. His princess. His forever.
They stayed like that for a long, quiet minute, just breathing, just being while the hot spring lapped gently at their skin and the stars kept watch overhead. Eventually, Cal pressed a soft kiss to her temple and murmured, “Let me take care of you, sweetheart.”
He lifted her carefully, still half-hard inside her, and eased them both deeper into the warm water. She sighed as the mineral-rich heat washed over them, gently cleaning away the evidence of their lovemaking. Cal kept one arm banded around her waist, the other cradling the back of her head, rocking her slowly like she was something fragile and infinitely precious.
When the water had done its work, he carried her out of the pool entirely. Water streamed off their bodies in silver rivulets as he stepped onto a smooth, dry rocky ledge just outside the main grotto. He laid her down on the thick towel he’d spread earlier, treating her like she was made of starlight.
Sage looked up at him with soft, dazed eyes, lips parted, cheeks still flushed. “Cal…”
“Shh, princess. Let me.”
This mountain of a man — scarred hands that had known violence and death — moved with the most luxurious, reverent care. He dried her slowly, worshipfully. The towel glided over her heavy breasts, catching the droplets that clung to her pierced nipples. Down the soft curve of her belly. Between her thick thighs, gentle and thorough, stroking away every trace of their shared release. He dried the dimples on her ass, the backs of her knees, the delicate arches of her feet. Every touch was a vow.
Sage tried to sit up, reaching for the towel. “Baby, let me do you—”
Cal smiled — gentle, almost shy — and caught her hands, pressing a kiss to each palm.
“You kinda already did.”
Sage froze, then burst into a bright, happy giggle. “And I’m the brat?”
Cal just smiled, warm and adoring. “No, baby… you’re everything. Tonight you let your husband take care of his wife.”
She melted at the word, a happy little sound escaping her as she settled back. He finished drying her, then helped her into the plush robe and soft fleece boots, wrapping her up like the treasure she was. Only then did he quickly towel himself off and pull on his own robe and boots.
He scooped her up again — one arm under her knees, the other around her back — and carried her out of the grotto and along the snowy path back toward the pavilion. The night air was crisp and cold against their faces, but between their bodies there was only warmth. Above them, the stars blazed brighter than he’d ever seen them, like the whole sky was rejoicing.
“Cal! Look! A shooting star! It’s so beautiful…”
