“We’re not done,” she said.
“No, beautiful. We’re not done.”
The water sloshed as we settled in the warm bath. With her hair now piled high, Julia’s head laid against my chest. Cupping the water, I rained it over her shoulders. Beneath the surface, my touch wandered over her thighs and between her legs.
Julia’s back arched against me as I circled her clit. My lips kissed her neck as my fingers plunged into her tight, warm pussy. Sliding in and out, my fingers covered with her essence as I continued teasing and taunting.
Her fingers gripped my knees as soft moans and whimpers filled the air.
“That’s it,” I coaxed.
Tighter, I wound her. Like an antique toy, I’d bring her to the brink and let her settle. My goal was near as I followed through until spasms overtook her body and she cried out. When she collapsed against me, her heart pounded as she curled toward me.
“That was…”
It was all-encompassing.
It centered her thoughts.
It had her thinking only about us.
“It was beautiful,” I said. “I could watch you come for hours.”
Slowly spinning, Julia craned her neck as her eyes met mine. “Hours?”
“Days, weeks, months, and years.”
“If your goal was to relax me, you did it,” she said with a beautiful grin. “If your goal is to make me come again, I think your work is cut out for you.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Are you up for it?”
I kissed her pink lips. “I’m pretty sure you know I am.”
Julia
Van handed me the wine glass he’d just refilled as a fire crackled in the fireplace before us. We’d spent the weekend isolated in the master bedroom suite and as Sunday came to a close, I wanted to rewrite the calendar, rearrange the days, and suspend the rotation of the earth. In the span of forty-eight hours, I’d officially become a recluse.
Leaving the world behind wasn’t anything like I thought it would be.
It was the opposite.
Fulfilling, comforting, and secure.
“Talk to me, beautiful,” Van said, teasing my sock-covered toes from the blanket I had over me.
Taking a sip of the semi-sweet rosé, I turned from the orange flames to Van’s face, scanning his features from his dark mane to his protruding brow, high cheekbones, firm lips, and chiseled jawline. “What if I don’t want to talk? I just want to soak up this time, just the two of us.”
“You haven’t asked about the cabin.”
I hadn’t.
Shaking my head, I set the wine glass on a nearby table.
“It’s secure,” he said. “The door has a lock. The windows are secured. No one is getting in without a key.”
“I don’t think I’ve asked because I want to forget that someone intruded.”