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Morning comes too soon, but it’s welcomed when I wake up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of rustling in the kitchen. Emir appears in the doorway, a tray laden with food balanced in his hand. He carries it over carefully, placing it on my lap before climbing back into bed. We devour the meal together, our fingers entwined once more, him feeding me bites of eggs Benedict and sips of orange juice. The softness of the pillow beneath my head contrasts with the crisp texture of the toast, and the coffee warms me from the inside out.
After breakfast, we cuddle up on the couch, watching old black and white movies, our legs tangled under each other’s. We kiss between scenes, lost in our own world, not caring about anything outside these walls.
Every night, I fall asleep in his arms, waking up to the sound of birds chirping, signaling the start of a new day. His muscular arms around me feel like home. We share warmth and comfort, making each other laugh in our sleep until eventually drifting off to dreamland once more.
As the sun peeks through the curtains, casting golden beams across the room, I’m woken up by the smell of bacon frying. Emir emerges from the kitchen, holding a plate of the most decadent looking breakfast I’ve ever seen. He slips back into bed, crawling over me to carefully place it on my stomach. It’s a feast for the eyes: fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, and maple syrup pooled on the side. My stomach growls in response.
“Today,” he murmurs against my neck, breath hot against my skin, “we have a long day ahead of us. But first, let’s enjoy this.” He feeds me a bite of pancake, his fingers brushing against my lips as he does. Sweetness melts on my tongue, the taste of wild blueberries dancing on it. The sizzle of bacon fills my ears as he takes a bite himself. The scent of coffee wafts through the air, making my mouth water even more.
We eat slowly, savoring every bite, our fingers intertwined as we feed each other morsels of food. The butter melts in my mouth, the syrup drips down my chin, and Emir’s hand is always there to wipe it away before taking a nibble of pancake from my lips. His rough hands on my skin feel like a soothing balm in this intimate moment.
Finally, finishing our meal, we lean in for a kiss. His lips are hot and sweet from the syrup, exploring mine eagerly, his hand finding its way under my shirt to trace patterns on my stomach. My heart skips a beat as I taste him on my lips, realizing that this could be dangerous, but I can’t resist him anymore.
“Let’s take one last walk on the beach,” he suggests, helping me up from the bed.
Weaving our fingers together, we stroll down to the sandy shore. The sun kisses our faces, the water laps at our ankles. The distant sound of waves crashing against the rocks, seagulls squawking, kids laughing in the distance. Two more days of this paradise, and then reality hits us like a freight train.
Looking into each other’s eyes, we speak without words. We each know how much we don’t want to leave this place, but also know that we can’t stay forever.
Finally, we turn around and start packing up our things, our hearts heavy, knowing that our time together is ending.
Back in the room, we lay out our clothes, folding them neatly into piles. The bedsheets are still warm from our bodies and the scent of sex lingering in the air.
We can’t help but sneak glances at each other, our eyes telling an intimate story. Our hands touching occasionally, a silent promise that we’ll be together again.
Once we’re done packing, we take turns showering, the steamy water cascading down our skin. Wrapping towels around our waists, we step out to help each other dry off.
“I feel so clean,” I sigh, running my fingers through his hair as he leans into my touch.
“I know, baby,” he replies, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ll miss doing this every day.”
He pulls me close, and I melt into his chest.
Outside, the sun is high in the sky, and we stroll hand-in-hand towards the beach. The sand is hot beneath our feet, and we let the cool water lap against our toes.
“Let’s make the most of these last few hours,” Emir suggests, his hand sliding down my back to cup my ass.
“Yes, let’s,” I whisper, feeling his hardness against my thigh.
We find a quiet spot under a palm tree, and he lays out a blanket. We sit facing each other, our legs intertwined. The salt breeze whipping our hair into a frenzy around us.
“What do you want to do?” he asks, his voice full of hope and curiosity.
I look into his eyes and grin. “How about some more of that breakfast you made for me this morning?”
Emir chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You really want me to cook again?”
“I really love what you do to those pancakes,” I purse my lips temptingly.
He gets up and disappears into the water, coming back with a bucket full of crabs.
Out of curiosity, I watch as he cleans them, his muscles rippling under his damp shirt.
When he’s done, he cooks them in front of me, seasoning them to perfection. The powerful smell filling the air.
We sit back down and feast on our crabs, laughing, talking about nothing and everything. Passion in the air.
Then we make love under the starry sky, our bodies moving in sync, our hearts beating as one. The taste of him lingers on my tongue.
