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Epilogue
DARA, ONE YEAR LATER
I have plans for Valentine’s Day. I want to surprise Hugo with a visit to The 10 Spot, where we met last year at the speed-dating event. I’ve already got a slinky red dress laid out on the bed, and some yummy new undies hidden in the drawer.
But he beats me to it.
I get home from the station and find my apartment scattered with red rose petals. They lead from the foyer through the living room and down the hall, and into our room.
“Hugo?” I call, perplexed.
“Yes, my valentine?” he replies in a cheesy voice. “I’m in the bedroom.”
I follow the voice, shaking my head and laughing a little. “You sound like Pepe LePew wooing some poor unsuspecting cat.”
“I hope you don’t think I look like him.”
He doesn’t.
He is naked on the bed, with a pile of rose petals strategically covering his groin.
I waver between laughter and lust. Laughter wins, and it’s apparently the right reaction, because he grins. “Guess what you’re getting.”
“Laid, apparently,” I say, kicking off my shoes.
“Why don’t you come open this package?” he suggests, waggling his eyebrows.
This is all very silly…and oddly sexy.
Partly because Hugo naked is well worth seeing, and partly because my darling, doofy boyfriend gets my sense of humor. That’s hot.
The bedroom is lit with candles glowing. There’s a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket on the nightstand. There’s a bouquet of roses on the dresser. There’s a box wrapped in pink-heart paper on the bed next to Hugo.
And there’s that pile of rose petals I can’t wait to dive into.
I take off my work clothes—not too fast, not too slow—and watch his eyes as he watches me. The pile of rose petals seems somewhat…disarranged. I smile, taking my hair down from its half-up style and letting it fall over my shoulders. Already, a rush of wet heat is slicking my inner thighs.
“You’re so beautiful,” Hugo says.
“What’s under the rose petals?” I sit on the edge of the bed and kiss him.
“Just me. You want champagne first?” He kisses back.
“No.” It doesn’t take me long to excavate the petals to find, as promised, just him. Primed and ready, long and thick and mouth-watering. I bend over and get my first lick, enjoying his helpless moan. I take his delicious cock into my mouth, stroking with my hand, feeling my folds get slicker with my own need.
“Baby,” he says, “not too much.”
“Why?” I tease, licking delicately at his swollen crown.
“Because I need to fuck you. And then I might need to fuck you again.”
His voice has gone husky and commanding, making me shiver in anticipation. I dive back down on his shaft, taking it as far as I can and enjoying his moan.
“On your back, sweetheart.” He flips me to my back on the bed and settles on top of me, scooping up a handful of rose petals and rubbing them across my torso. My nipples are taut with arousal; one petal clings to my nipple and he strokes me through it. I gasp, but his other hand slides down to my aching, slick cleft. “Oh honey, you’re so wet.”
I can’t help moaning as he positions that gorgeous monster of his over my valley and slides it through the folds, bumping my little button on each pass. I am wet, and the slippery friction is incredible. I spread my legs wider for him.
“Are you gonna come for me, Dara?” He reaches for my ankles and raises them up toward my head. “Come for me,” he commands.
