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"Dominic, please," I whisper, grasping at the wall but unable to find purchase. "I need you now."
"Not yet," he murmurs, his mouth trailing lower, and then lower again.
His lips caress my center, his tongue gliding through my folds. A powerful groan rumbles from him. His hands clutch me harder, pull me closer.
I lose myself to him, lose myself in him as he takes me higher, higher, always higher. Until I'm trembling with desire, desperate for release. It comes like the soft wash of water over rocks, working its way through me in waves. First my core, and then higher, through my belly, up into my chest. My arms and legs tingle. My head lolls against the wall. I bite my lip, trying to contain the cry of ecstasy threatening to break free.
"That's it, sweet girl," he croons, looking up at me with those dark emerald eyes. They're wide and dilated, dark with pleasure. Almost worshipful in their enjoyment of what he's doing to me. What he always does to me.
No matter how many times he touches me like this, kisses me like this, he manages to fling me into the heavens in some new way, some extraordinarily beautiful, delightful new way. It's bliss. For five years, my life has been perfect because of him. I wouldn't change a single moment of it.
He kisses his way up my body, stopping to nuzzle his scruffy face against my growing belly. He drops a little kiss there, whispers words I can't hear. They're probably praises for the baby girl growing inside me. Ever since we found out we're having a little girl, he's been talking to her, telling her how much he loves her, how she's the sweetest little baby. Already, he adores her.
So do her older brothers. Not a day goes by when they don't curl up in my lap to talk to their baby sister. Like Dominic, they're fascinated by her. She's going to be the most cherished little baby on the planet if my boys have anything to say about it. I can't wait to meet her, to hold her in my arms and love her with my whole heart like I do Dominic and our boys.
Dominic continues his journey up my body, stopping again to worship at my breasts. He loves watching them grow as much as he loves watching my stomach expand. He could spend hours kissing them, biting them…adoring them. He's good at it too. So very good. He knows my body better than I do. He should. He's spent the last five years exploring it at every available opportunity.
He quests higher, nipping at my collarbone, sliding his lips across my cheek. He lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. His lips touch mine as he sinks into me, filling me full. So full. No matter how many times he makes love to me, that first thrust always steals my breath. He's so big, so damn perfect.
"I love you," he whispers against my lips as he makes love to me, lifting me up and down his length until I feel like I'm soaring close to the sun. He never lets it burn me. Nothing ever hurts me with him around. He won't allow it.
"I love you too," I whisper back, scraping my nails against his scalp and then down his neck. I dig them into his broad shoulders, clinging as he fucks me up against the wall in the bathroom, unhurried. He never rushes when we're like this, always adamant that he's going to take his time. He does. Over and over again.
I love it. I love him.
His lips land against mine again, his hands digging into the flesh of my ass as he pumps into me. I know the minute he gets close. Hear it in the little gasp he makes, feel it in the way he holds me a little tighter, pushes a little deeper. I know his body too. Know everything about this incredible man. He's not the only one who has spent the last five years exploring.
My greedy lips and curious hands have been all over him, worshipping him too. Our life together is our heaven. When we're like this, he's my god. He's
my everything just like I'm his. We were made for this, made for one another.
We both know it. We both love it.
"Come for me, sunshine," he says, partially a demand and partially a plea.
"Together," I murmur, refusing to go over without him this time. We're in this together. Always. Always.
"Summer. God, Summer," he groans, burying his face in my throat as his orgasm takes him. He loses his rhythm, loses his control. He grips me tighter, less carefully. His cock jerks inside me, spilling into me again and again. He trembles, his powerful body vulnerable in this moment. His breath rattles in his lungs, steams across my flesh.
I fall apart with him, willingly, eagerly, completely. I moan his name and writhe against him as the waves crest, pulling me under. It's bliss. It's magic. It's everything.
We come down slowly, so tangled up in one another I'm not sure where one of us ends and the other begins. Maybe we don't end. Maybe we're the same. Sometimes, it feels like we are. Like right now, when the sweat is cooling on my overheated skin and he's holding me close, protecting me with his body as I float in euphoria.
"Happy anniversary, sweet girl," he says, pulling back to give me a lazy smile. His eyes are alight with happiness, his scruffy face set in lines of joy. "You've been mine for five years today."
"I've been yours for longer than that," I say, smiling back at him.
"I know, but five years ago today, you handed me your letter of resignation and your heart. It's an important day, you know."
"The most important."
He nods his agreement, his expression solemn, grave. "It was the day I finally started living."
God, I love him when he's all serious and sweet. He's irresistible.
He pulls me away from the walk, carrying me toward the shower. He's still inside me. Still hard. I don't think he's ever anything less than ready to take me again, ready to love me one more time, deeper and harder.
He turns me so the cold spray hits him instead of me, using his body like a shield. He has to feel it, has to be freezing, but he doesn't complain. He just waits patiently for it to heat before he lowers me to my feet and begins to wash me.
