Page 65 of Artfully Wild
“Really?” I exclaim. “You’re stopping sex to ask me about my cat?”
He lets out a laugh until I start kissing my way down his torso, pausing to tease his nipples in the way I know he likes. Before I get too far, he gently pulls me back up so he can meet my eyes. “Tell me,” he pleads.
So, I do. I tell him the story I’ve never told anyone else. “Max came to me…” I pause, taking a deep breath. “The night Sarah died. Not even an hour later, he was on the porch meowing at me, clawing at my feet like the demon beggar he is, so I fed him. Which isn’t like me, but that night, I had to. I had to do anything and everything other than be in the house. So I fed him. And he never left and I never made him leave. It sounds stupid, but I always thought Sarah sent him somehow, knowing I’d need some kind of companion over the next few years. Maybe bring back my love for cats I used to have. Heal something in me after she’s gone. Which she’s been doing with the book now. But Max helped too. So, that’s our story. That’s why Max doesn’t count.”
I exhale and my body relaxes further into his, feeling lighter and freer, another piece of my life connected to Sarah out in the open, no longer locked inside me, weighing me down.
“I don’t think that’s stupid.”
“You don’t?”
“I think there are a lot of unexplained things in this world and if the idea that Max is a being who could have been sent by Sarah brings you comfort, then that’s okay. Believe it if it helps you.”
I smile down at him. Just when I didn’t think I’d fall harder.
“What?” he asks, returning my grin.
“You,” is all I say before I continue where I left off before he stopped me, kissing his chest.
The further down I go, the tighter his body becomes, wound like a tether ready to snap. Once I get to where I know he wants me the most, I shift the fabric to the sides and settle myself in between his legs.
I take a moment to trace the veins on him, admiring the softness of his skin. He shifts, begging for more than light touches and teasing glances.
“Please let me fuck your mouth,” he begs.
“Now that…I like,” I say before I eagerly go down on him.
“And I like you on your knees for me, little sparrow.” The heat that was already low in my body boils over and I devour him. Taking him fully into my mouth, I place a hand at the base of him, loosening my grip so I can easily twist my hand around and stroke him while I suck and lick. The moans that echo through the room tell me he’s enjoying this just as much as I am. I look up at him from my place on my knees and marvel at his body. He is propped up on his elbows and his eyes are closed, with his head thrown back. When he looks back down, he locks eyes with me and threads his fingers through my hair. I let him take over my movements as he thrusts deeper into my mouth and I moan, encouraging him to go further. He does and I find I like doing this for him. I like making him lose himself in wanting and lust and love. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good on my cock,” he says, thrusting into me until he reaches the back of my throat.
All I can do is moan to show him how much I am enjoying this too.
“I want to fuck you too, but I don’t think I can hold out much longer, sweetheart.”
I reach up and rake my hands down his chest until they land on the peaks I know are hard and ready for me.
Once I roll them between my thumbs and forefingers, holding out is no longer an option for him.
“Sweetheart, I’m going to come. Where do you want me?”
I suck harder, keeping him exactly where he is and he listens, thrusting harder into my mouth as he grasps my hair tighter. I moan around him, the vibration of my throat carrying him over the edge. He spills into my mouth and I keep sucking until he is gasping at the sensitivity, begging me to stop, because it’s too much. His hands grip the duvet pooled around us and finally his body relaxes as his orgasm subsides.
After I get up and make my way to the bathroom, I rinse my mouth and drink some water. When I return, I find him in the same place I left him—still naked on his back and spent from his orgasm.
After I curl up next to him and throw an extra blanket on top of us, he pulls me closer and places a kiss on my temple, which I am learning is one of his favorite places.
“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” he says with his lips still pressed into my skin.
I press my body closer to his, wrapping my leg around him. “Mmmm, not in the last ten minutes.”
As soon as I look up at him, he doesn’t waste time pressing his lips to mine. He takes his time, slowly working my lips open. Taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he lifts my chin for better access. He follows my lead with his tongue, tangling it with mine slowly, savoring the feeling of us. Of our naked bodies tangled together.
My heart beats hard in my chest and I am consumed with so much feeling, I’m not sure how my body contains it. I feel as if it could burst at any moment and suddenly I find myself smiling against his lips, pulling him closer by the hip, my heart skipping in my chest. I’ve never really believed in the whole butterflies in your stomach concept. I thought it was a cheesy thing in one of Sarah’s novels or Hudson’s Christmas movies. And after somany relationships in the past where butterflies were extinct, I never considered I’d feel them. Never thought I even had a chance.
Maybe they’ve been caterpillars all this time curled up in their cocoons waiting until the right person came along to emerge and spread their wings. Because right now, it feels as if my whole body is full of them. Every nerve is on edge. Tingling with every flap of their wings. My heart flutters with each brush when they fly too close. I can’t think of a time I have ever felt happier. More at peace. More safe. More in love than I do right now. With my best friend. I wouldn’t change the way we did anything over the years. Our deal was made for a reason. If we had been together when we were teenagers, things would have been different. Maybe we would have made it and still had our own fairy tale love story. But I think the way our story played out is perfect just the way it is. It is what we needed to get to where we are now. Tangled together, discovering each others’ bodies and irrevocably in love with each other.
I pull back from him to look into his eyes, trying to convey everything I can’t say with just a look. He deserves words. He deserves everything. More than what I can give him.
No. I’m not going to allow myself to think that.
