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“Let go, Mrs. Fairchild,” he says his tone husky and raw. “We have plenty of time, and just once isn't going to be enough.”
The way his voice thrums against my stomach, the way his hand keeps working me without pause, the words themselves - it all comes together and I find myself unable to stop the rise of pleasure inside me. I’m helpless as it breaks over me, sending me pulsing and shaking, throwing my head back as I cry out my husband's name. The pleasure is even more intense than it’s ever been before, rolling over me in great waves that leave me clinging to his shoulders to stop myself from falling over. His strong arms are around me, holding me in place.
When I have come down enough to myself again, I look down and see a slow smile spread across his face, a cunning curve that only lifts one side of his cheeks. It looks like trouble. He slowly raises his finger to his mouth, glistening and sticky with my juices, and licks it clean.
That's enough for me. I fall to my knees before him in a frenzy, pushing fabric out of the way so that I can take him into my mouth. But before long, before I have even enjoyed the taste of him, he pulls me to my feet and makes me stand in front of him again. I could almost protest, except that he takes the moment to yank his final remaining clothes all the way off, throwing them down and casting himself back further onto the bed even as he reaches for me. I find myself thrown on top of him, our hips colliding, and without words or even any concerted effort, we join. He slips inside me, and I can only throw my head back and moan at the fullness and rightness of everything that I’m experiencing.
A rhythm builds between us easily, a rhythm that is as instinctive as breathing to me. I have no words, no sense of space or time, nothing except the rhythm between us and the place where we meet. I ride him up and down, and he raises his hips to meet me, thrust after thrust pounding home. Before long the pleasure is so intense I can barely move anymore, or even hold myself up, he holds me in place above him in his strong hands, gripping onto my hips and even lifting me up and down with his own strength as his hips come up.
I feel him swelling inside me, feel him reaching his own peak. It’s all I want, and the thought of it always fills me with even more excitement. I feel like I'm filled to a stretching point like there is no possible way he could get any bigger than this, and still, he does, swelling and hardening yet further as he prepares to fill me with his seed. Finally, it comes, he calls out my name as he thrusts hard once more into me, sending me over the edge for the second time. We twitch and writhe together, riding our own waves, joined in ecstasy in a special place reserved only for the two of us.
And this is what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life.
Is there any wife out there who is as lucky as me?
I crawl to his chest, resting my head there as we pant for breath. I can feel the charged air in the room, and I know that this is only a pause, a chance to rest and recover before we carry on. This is not the end of the night. But it’s a chance to reflect, to pause, and I find myself thinking about the future.
About our honeymoon, which will start as soon as we have our real, official wedding in a few month’s time. About how we will then return to Vegas after a couple of weeks, before the end of the summer. Jonas can't spend too long away, though he has agreed that two weeks is fine. The business can't really run itself without him.
It still surprises me to know what he does. I didn't ask right when we were beginning, and in the past few weeks, I have come to realize a lot more about what he spends his time doing. He manages contracts for so many different places, including all of the ones that we ate out at that first week. His business is in food, and Vegas is full of it. There's no way he could manage it all from Texas, and I'm so glad that I made the decision to stay here. This is a new chapter of my life, a new excitement.
I wouldn't take him away from the work that he loves. It wouldn't even make sense for me to do so, because we might end up with nothing if he has to sell the business that he has spent the last twenty years building. I don't want him to spend the rest of his life building another business up from the ground. I want comfort, security, and this life.
