Page 115 of Jacob

“Do we have time for me to show you how big my sword is before they get here?” I slyly glance her way.

Without blinking, she replies, “Is it bigger than the heroes I read about in my books?”

“Much, much bigger.” I grin against the lip of my mug, take a sip and place it on the nightstand.

“Show me,” she challenges.

I take her mug from her hand and put it beside mine. Grabbing my phone, I scroll to find the song I’m after and hit play.

She bursts out laughing when the electric guitar strings play from “Butterfly” by Crazy Town.

“Oh my God, this song is so sexual,” she says, still laughing.

“I know and I fucking love it.” I climb on top of her as she sinks into the mattress and I start singing the words against the shell of her ear, making her giggle even more.

“You were so young; how did you even know what that meant?”

I nudge open her legs with my knees and move myself between her thighs.

“Oh, I knew.” I don’t tell her about the deeper meaning of the song for me, about how she makes me feel uplifted and free, like a butterfly, so I go with the filthy meaning of the song instead. “My wish for today is that you come all over my dick, but what do you wish for, m’lady?”

“I wish to be ravished.” She gazes up at me.

“Done.” I kiss her lips.

“I wish to be looked after.” She wraps her legs around my hips.

“Done.” I kiss her neck.

“I wish to be adored.”

“Done.” I kiss her lips again.

“I wish to be loved.”

“Done, done, done, done, done.” I kiss her all over, making her squeal.

Neither of us ever need to wish for anything again, because we have everything we want.

With each other.

It was touch and go and for a fleeting moment I didn’t think we’d get it, but we did.

Our happy ever after.

Well… maybe…

Skye stops kissing me as she moves her mouth to the side. “Where’s that sound of running water coming from?”

I lean away, propping myself up on my hands on either side of her face, and listen. “This fucking house.” I roll my eyes.

Dick fully erect in my boxers, I jump out of the bed to go on a water leak search party.

“You love it, really,” Skye shouts out to me as I run down the spiral staircase.

I love her.

My butterfly.

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