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They pushed against each other as they absorbed their pleasure with mutual greed. Eventually, Rose lost control of her limbs, her legs shaking like noodles as she stumbled against the glass. Dylan went with her as he laid his body against hers, holding her softly by the neck and hips as he continued to gyrate within her.
They slowed together, gazing into the evening. Rose let all of her strength go and fell against his shoulders, silence filling the moment like a precious bird's song. The city below glinted with a quiet appreciation of their lovemaking.
Dylan stroked her, knowing he would never be as fulfilled as he was in that moment with her. He wanted to be the curator of her every magical moment. The king to her queen, the lighthouse in her storm. From that moment on, he would dedicate his entire existence to her, promising wordlessly to never let go.
THIRTEEN
ROSE
Rose had never adored having someone inside her so much in her entire life. She had plenty of sex in her lifetime, especially as an attractive lead singer of a punk band. She took up offers only when she was feeling particularly horny, which usually amounted to her feeling lonely. The sex in itself was subpar, and she was left feeling emptier than she originally had.
But something changed inside her the moment she met Dylan. She felt her walls crumbling around her, even during times that were difficult. Then when he retreated from the record store without a word. She had to pry him open like an oyster, but for the first time, the fight felt worthwhile.
Kissing him and making love after having a heart-to-heart conversation made her feel more alive than she had in ages. Teaching the students gave her meaning, as did singing for her band, but she didn’t realize there was a space in her heart reserved for someone to share all of that with.
He sent her to the edges of the galaxy twice rather quickly, and his heavy, strong body pinned her against the glass of his penthouse. After coming back down to earth, she opened her eyes to feel the rush of lights below her, enthralled by the freedom of her naked body.
Rose leaned against Dylan, breathing in his musk, his perspiration. He rubbed her neck as she fell into him, her limbs getting weak as she gave in to the blast of dopamine flooding her brain stem.
“You okay, honey?” Dylan asked.
Rose tilted her head in her lover’s direction. His eyes were as bright as emeralds in a midnight desert. She reached up with both arms and encouraged his head toward hers, kissing his tender lips with the utmost care.
“I don’t ever want to come down from this high with you,” she murmured.
Dylan grinned, leaning his head into her neck, rapidly moving from her shoulders to her spine. He backed away from the glass, holding her by the arms, then scooped her up. Rose was swept off her feet, letting out a comical yelp which made Dylan laugh. His handsome face looked even more desirable. She wanted to make him look and feel like that forever.
“Then we don’t have to,” he whispered.
Dylan carried her down a long hall, lights flickering on as they neared the bedroom. As they stepped into another room with high ceilings, more lights burst into a glow, highlighting a romantic pathway toward the bed.
Dylan placed Rose on her feet as she marveled at the room. The last time they were in here, the room was barely lit. Now she saw it in its full glory. Beyond the size of the bed and the cherrywood lining of the trim, Rose was captivated by the ink-black paint on the walls of the room, matching with the golden accents of the mirror against the wall and two double doors that led to a walk-in closet. She walked around nude, with her mouth agape, gazing up at the elegant metallic chandelier above the bed.
“My God,” she whispered. “I never thought I could find a bedroom sexy.”
Dylan was watching her solemnly, then stepped to the bedside table. Without a word, he picked up a remote, pointed it at the chandelier, and an electric sound filled the room. Rose shook slightly as the ceiling overhead buzzed, then magically carried the chandelier backward toward the entrance. Behind it, a long mirror was revealed, hanging perfectly over the massive bed.
Rose felt a surge of excitement move through her body like a live wire. It slithered from the top of her head and settled between her legs. She glanced at Dylan, whose eyes were sparkling.
“Holy shit,” she said, chuckling. “That is so fucking hot.”
Dylan knelt on the bed and held his arms out to her. She had never felt so wanted in her entire life, and it gave her shivers.
“Not as hot as you,” he said, voice creamy and sexy. “Get over here.”
He growled at her, which sent her crawling to him on all fours. They embraced in the middle of the bed, and Dylan flopped on top of her, kissing like they had been intimate a thousand times.
Dylan was exceptionally romantic in the way he had sex, which had initially scared her, but then reassured her. He often went slow, studying her bodily responses and listening intently to the vowels and verses that her desire sang out to him. It made her feel impatient sometimes, but only because being with him guaranteed several fireworks of orgasms.
Even when they fucked, there was always an element of preciousness. He did the same thing on the bed as Rose arched her back, his mouth once again finding her neck and biting into the supple skin.
Rose gazed up into the mirror, admiring the muscles rippling all over Dylan’s back. She pulled his head into her body, making eye contact with herself, turned on by how wonderful she appeared at the center of her power.
“Don’t waste time, baby,” she moaned. “I want you inside me, now.”
Dylan was at her collarbone when she made her demands, and he looked at her with an expression of absolute madness.
“Anything for my queen,” he crooned, then winked.
