I continue to shudder with release as a flood pours between my legs, coating my thighs as Easton collapses forward with me.
The pleasure subsides, and the discomfort again sets in as he carefully pulls out of me, rimming my ass gently with his fingers before collapsing on his back on the ottoman. Staring over at me, chest pumping, he pulls my upper half to rest atop him and kisses me like I’m the air he needs. Pulling away, he gives me a devilish grin. “That was fucking insane, baby.”
Nodding, I subtly run a hand down my thigh and feel it’s soaked before wiping it on the towel discreetly beneath me.
“Will you start a shower?” I ask, and Easton nods, kissing my lips before turning to give me a grand view of his naked backside.
The last thirty hours or so have been the happiest of my existence. The last few especially. Feeling filthy while at the same time blissed out on the never-ending high that seems to endlessly fuel us both, I discreetly wipe between my legs as he sets the water temperature. Unable to stop thinking about what just transpired, I speak up.
“How do you know about all those places on me?”
He tosses a grin over his shoulder as steam rises from the shower, his dark hair cresting over his forehead. I take a mental snapshot. “I made it my business to know, and now it’s my job.”
“Sadly, I didn’t even know some of those places,” I bite into his shoulder. We’ve been adventurous before, but our honeymoon has turned into our dirtiest adventure to date.
As it should be.
Like Easton, I refuse to let anything, anyone, or any thought take the happiness from our first day of marriage. Since we agreed to turn our phones off before we got here, we haven’t bothered acknowledging the disaster that awaits us outside the door. But, the longer we keep from discussing our cocoon has an expiration date—which sadly is tomorrow—the more anxious I start to become. I need a plan of some sort in order to feel secure. Even so, I don’t want to broach it just yet. In fact, I want to prolong every second of the high we deserve as newlyweds.
“How do you feel?” He asks as he steps in and pulls me under the spray with him. Limbs feeling like Jell-O, it’s all I can do to nod, fatigue taking over. A few seconds under the water has me replaying our most recent interlude, and I turn my face away as he murmurs his compliments to his “filthy little wife.”
It’s when he sees the blush shading some of my afterglow that he tips my chin in concern. “Was that too much?”
“Yes, Easton, far too much. You don’t have a cock. You have an Amazonian water snake in your pants.”
“Seriously?” He asks, holding in his smile briefly before it breaks through.
I dispense some jasmine-smelling soap onto one of the luxury sponges that feel like angel’s wings on my skin before giving him an eye roll. “It was painful but glorious, and you damn well know it, so stop smiling like that.” I hesitate before I run the sponge across his chest and glance over at the towel uneasily. Too late with my recovery, he pinches his brows and follows my line of sight before sensing my hesitance. This man wasn’t lying when he said he’s memorized me. He’s far too perceptive, making it hard for me to hide anything. Both a blessing and curse.
“What? Are you hurting more than you’re letting on?”
“No…it’s not that.”
“Well then,” he ducks under the spray before spouting a stream of water onto my chest. “Spit it out.”
“Cute.”
“Natalie,” he warns, “what is it?”
“I’ve had sex before you,” I start. “Some good sex.”
“Fucking really?” he groans. “That’s what you’re going to start with?”
“Hear me out. I’ve had a handful of partners.”
Nostrils flaring, his jaw ticks.
“There’s nothing to be jealous about.”
“I’ll be the judge.”
I roll my eyes. “I can’t talk to you when you go all paleolithic man.”
“Then maybe you need to skip the sexual history and get to the point.”
“Forget it,” I say dismissively, turning and ducking under the spray. He instantly turns me back to face him and positions me to the shower wall. Palming the tiles next to my head, he runs his nose along mine.
“Sorry, I’ll put the jealous asshole on a leash. Tell me what you were going to say, Beauty.”
“Well, in my experience, I’ve never…” I dip my eyes to my nether region before widening them. “You know…”
He frowns in confusion before a slow smile begins to build on his lips.
“You mean—”
“Don’t you dare say it!” I clamp my hand over his mouth as he completely ignores me, his reply muffled against my hand.
“Femaw ej lation.”
“I said don’t say it!” as he chuckles and removes my palm.
“Porn word—squirting.” He barks out more laughter as I shake my head in irritation.
“That’s absolutely disgusting.”
“Didn’t seem that way at the time,” he muses at my discomfort.
“Just forget it. This conversation isn’t happening.” Thoroughly embarrassed, I do my best to free myself under his scrutinous confines as he presses in, holding me in place. “This is highly unfair,” I say, unable to move, “you’ve got a lot of muscle and inches on me.”
His lips quirk higher. “You walked right into that one, and I must admit, my ego is thankful for the boost.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Ouch,” he chuckles, “is this our first marital spat?”
“You’re being disgusting, and I’m…never mind.”
When he sees my disappointment, his smile dims.
“I’m sorry, baby. Don’t let it freak you out. It’s natural for some women when they have an intense orgasm and is nothing to be embarrassed about. Honestly? I think it’s hot as fuck and can’t wait to make it happen again.” He crowds me as I look anywhere but at him.
“I don’t share your enthusiasm,” I retort dryly.
“But you did,” he chides, “you were very enthusiastic about it. You sang opera.” Face flaming, he presses in further, forcing me to look up at him. “No way, don’t hide from me.” The sight of him in the massive shower, seeming fully relaxed and mine, takes my breath away.
“You can talk to me about anything, Beauty, absolutely anything. Don’t be embarrassed to talk to me, ever. We’re one now. Okay?”
I dip my chin. “Okay.”
“Not good enough. Look at me and really hear me,” he murmurs as his velvety voice surrounds me, as does he, keeping my chin up with gentle fingers. “Don’t ever hide from me. We’re as close as two people could ever be.”
Studying his expression, I see nothing but conviction in his eyes as his words feed my soul.
“Do you get that?”
I clasp my fingers around his neck and pull him closer. “We’re one,” I repeat. Loving the sound of it. “You know I’ve been one my whole life too, much in the same way—an only child and a party of one most of my adult life. This meaning is so much different and so much better.”
“Yeah?” He graces me with a beautiful half-smile as he palms my stomach. “Maybe one day we’ll be two, or three?”
I nod. “One day. Yes. I want that, too.”
His entire demeanor shifts as we conjure a glimpse of a future, our future, his eyes lighting with it as he gazes back at me with reverence.
“Now is the best time for us, just the two of us, and we get to have these kinds of days for as long as we decide to.” He lifts our banded hands, palm to palm, before tethering them together and kissing my wedding band. “I want so many more of these days with you.”
“Me too.”
He nods. With at least a thousand days worth of decisions made, he begins to bathe me with gentle care, using a silky sponge to wash every inch of my body. His eyes trail the workings of his hands, and as much as I want to reciprocate, I’m too exhausted for the moment. At my feet, he glances up at me while gently running the sponge between my legs. I wince, and his eyes soften.