I tighten my walls around his cock, basically choking him as I come, my screams muffled against his hand.
But he doesn’t stop fucking me. He keeps going, speeding up the tempo of his thrusts until I’m clawing at his back and sucking on his fingers.
I can feel him bruising me, but I don’t fucking care.
I want his cock, and I want it hard.
I throw my head back as my back arches with a second orgasm in as many minutes.
I open my eyes. Artem’s face comes into view. It’s the only thing I see, the only image that fills my world. Him and our son—that’s all that matters. That is my world.
His jaw is clenched with exertion, his irises dark with desire, and little beads of sweat dot his forehead.
I can see his own orgasm coming in his eyes, so I don’t turn my gaze. I want to watch it.
I keep the eye contact and grip him hard with my legs as he fucks me to within an inch of my life.
Give me more, I’m saying with my body. Give me all of you and I’ll give you all of me.
My second orgasm is more violent, more all-consuming than the first, and for a moment, it feels as though my heart is going to beat right out of my chest.
I’m riding high on all the new sensations coursing through my body that I barely even notice Artem coming inside me seconds later.
He stays on top of me propped up on his elbows. He kisses my neck and my breasts, rubbing his face in between them.
I run my hands over his hair and wait patiently for my heartbeat to calm down a little.
“Wow,” I breathe when it’s all said and done. I search for words to describe what just happened between us and come up empty. “I mean… wow.”
He turns to me and smiles, before slowly shifting off me.
“How’s the little man?” he asks.
I pull myself up enough to look into Phoenix’s bassinet. He’s still sleeping contentedly, his little lips moving gently in a suckling motion that’s so precious it gives me no choice other than to lean down and kiss his nose.
“Sleeping like the angel he is,” I reply.
“I’m glad his mama’s screaming didn’t wake him up,” Artem teases.
I hit his arm and settle into the crook of his embrace. “That was your fault, not mine.”
He laughs. “Well, I’m happy to take the blame for that one.”
We lie like that for another half an hour before Phoenix wakes up and demands milk. I feed him as Artem swims in the ocean. He’s glistening and beautiful, a mirage flashing between the waves.
This is what I always wanted.
This is what I need.
Ocean. Artem. Phoenix.
My pulse quickens as I watch Artem run out of the ocean. Ice-blue drops of water glint off his muscular body like diamonds.
When he joins me back on our large beach blanket, I pull out the picnic lunch I’d made for our day at the beach and we pig out on ham and cheese sandwiches, salt and vinegar potato chips, sweet cherry tarts.
Artem drinks beer. I drink lemonade. Everything feels kind of magical.
Careful now, Esme. Nothing lasts forever.