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She is tight and hot and wet, the perfect sheath for me to bury myself in. I can’t help but call out her name as I plunge into her over and over again, both of us rising to a fever pitch in our heat, speed, and pressure, and power increasing all the while. Everything in the universe ceases to be except this one room, this one bed, and finally just this one point of contact where I’m deep inside her, the only thing that matters in all of existence.
And before I can even get a grip on how important and incredible all of this is, I find myself spilling into her in response to the mighty tremors that draw her over the edge, leaving us both satisfied at once.
Again we find our breath stolen, laying next to each other on the bed. She turns and lays her head on my chest, and my arms find their natural home around her, holding her close and tight. We rest and regain our breath, and as we do I can’t help but find my mind wandering.
Twice now, I’ve spilled my seed inside her. No barriers between us, no protection. Two opportunities to make a child with her. I know it’s rare and unlikely that she could be pregnant now, on our first night together, but I can’t help but let my mind wander in that direction. A child. No, not one - several children. A whole football team of them.
I picture her walking around a house, my Savannah. This house is part of my dreams, not something yet real. I haven't had a home since I came to Las Vegas, opting to stay at the hotel because it was temporary and easy. Without a family, without anyone to come home to there seemed to be no need for a home. But now...
Now, I picture Savannah holding a baby and soothing it to sleep as she paces around our home, and I can't help but think the image is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
When I see beautiful things, truly beautiful things, I want to make them mine. And I think that all the powers of heaven and earth would not be able to hold me back and stop me now because I know what I want more than anything on this earth.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Savannah
When I wake in the morning, I realize that I’m not even embarrassed to find myself still naked and curled around his body. Everything is different now, but it also feels so right that I can’t think for a moment I'm doing anything out of the ordinary. Something that would have seemed completely impossible, even, yesterday is now the absolute way of things.
I listen to his heartbeat against my ear, feel it rising slowly and carefully up and down below me. He’s still asleep, I think, but now that I’ve woken I realize I need to use the bathroom. I try to move away from him as gently and carefully as I can so that I don’t wake him. Finally managing to extricate myself, I take one moment to look back and admire his sleeping form, the body that was over and inside mine last night, before heading to the bathroom.
In there, I find the items of lingerie I opted not to wear last night. Some of them are decorative and fancy, others plainer and more suited for everyday use. I pick out another pair, putting them on quickly. Later I might shower, but I want to wait for Jonas to wake up first. For now, it feels strange not to wear anything at all while I explore the suite.
I hesitate, just about to leave the bathroom, as it occurs to me that I don’t know if he has cleaning staff coming by to clean the room. I grab a black silky robe, one that will cover me completely, unlike the lacy creation from last night. I slip it on over my body and then step outside, quietly turning the door handle so that I don’t wake him.
Jonas continues to sleep as I run my hands slowly and carefully over a few more of the items of clothing on the racks. I can't believe he purchased all of this for me. It seemed so extravagant, so much just for me.
I turn to wander through the rest of the suite, exploring the other rooms. While at first, it seemed to be devoid of personality, just a hotel suite with no touch of its inhabitant, I realize the signs are there, simply tucked away. Inside the cupboards and the fridge in the kitchen, I find expensive food and drinks, as well as more simple items that tell me so much about his tastes. There are other drawers and storage units filled with items that must belong to him, and in the living room that I didn’t enter last night, there are even framed photographs.
