by Stella Noir
These days, I’ve learned how Dylan is feeling just by looking him in the eyes.
There are the good days, when he’s smiling, laughing, teasing me and pinching my bottom. He’s good old Dylan, my love, my eternal flame.
But there are bad days, too.
Days when his bullet wound still hurts, and he can barely walk with the pain he feels from his wounds. Days when he is so sad and wrapped up in his thoughts I know we won’t speak more than a word with one another.
But that’s how it is – everything in my life has been bittersweet, and I don’t care, because I agreed to have him with the bad and the good, and I will stand by those words forever.
Today is a good day, though. And it is more often than not lately, which makes me more than just a little happy about us, and our future together.
He pats the baby’s head gently, and then gives me a mischievous grin.
“What?” I ask, returning the cheeky smile.
“Don’t you think it’s Marc’s bedtime?” he asks innocently, and I do have to agree it’s time to put him to bed. As if on cue, the baby yawns and murmurs some gibberish under his breath.
We head into the house together, putting the baby in his crib and tucking him in. I sing him a lullaby and Dylan settles in the rocking chair. He loves the sound of my voice, and this little routine has become something precious, a beautiful part of our day.
When Marc is sound asleep, I start walking downstairs toward the kitchen to perhaps have a glass of wine or a bite of dinner. But before I can even get to the stairs, Dylan grabs my forearm and gently pulls me towards him until our bodies crash together.
“Need you,” he whispers in my hair, inhaling my scent like he’s addicted to it.
“Now?” I ask softly, the giddiness bubbling deep inside of me, already excited to have him where I always want him.
“Right now,” he nods, and moves away just enough to shoot me another cheeky grin. I try to move away, but in a split second, he throws me over his shoulder and I stifle back giggles as my husband carries me into the master bedroom.
He sets me down on the bed like I’m something precious, being so careful with me it melts my heart, seeing the love he touches me with.
With the baby and dog fast asleep in the nursery, we have the entire evening to ourselves …
Dylan climbs on the bed next to me and in a swift motion, pulls my dress over my head until I’m in front of him in just my panties, having not bothered to put on a bra since we were at home all day.
I cover myself, shivering when the cold hits my body, and am about to scold him when he pulls me into his arms. And when I’m in Dylan’s embrace, I just cannot stay mad at him …
There’s something about those broad shoulders of his, and those strong, muscular arms. The way he still holds me like I’m a precious ornament despite the strength I know his body possesses makes me go crazy.
I moan in his arms, rubbing my breasts against his bare chest.
“Want you, baby,” he says softly, taking my face in his hands and gazing lovingly into my eyes. I return the look, full of absolute trust and love for this man, for whom I’ve been through hell and back.
And I would do it all again to have him next to me, loving me, taking care of me.
He finally lowers his lips to mine with a low growl and I can immediately feel my body take notice. I feel myself getting wet just from that one kiss, devouring my mouth slowly but passionately and with purpose. With every touch, every kiss and every time we make love, Dylan claims me.
Like he doesn’t know I’ve been his since the beginning of time …
“Can’t hold back,” he admits with a groan, unzipping his jeans, his cock immediately springing free. He tears my panties as I emit a low surprised shriek, remembering I mustn’t disturb the baby.
But before I have time to object, he lowers his body until his lips are next to my entrance.
I look at him worriedly, asking him to come up. This is something I never allowed him to do, feeling too shy to let him lick me down there.
But he gives me one of those cheeky grins that I swear will be my undoing one of these days … If not today.
And with that, he lowers his mouth on my mound, lapping me up slowly at first.
It’s a new sensation, one I’ve never felt before. I feel my cheeks reddening immediately, feeling embarrassed, like we’re doing something wrong … But only a split second later, it starts feeling so good, my cheeks blush even more with the sheer pleasure of what Dylan is doing.
“Fuck,” I curse out loud.
Now let me just tell you, I am not one for cursing.
And I can feel Dylan’s grin grow even wider as he sucks my lips into his, finding my clit with his tongue and teasing me relentlessly. I grip the sheets next to me, my heart pounding so fast I don’t just feel it in my chest, but in every single limb and even in my head.
Dylan moves upwards, locking his eyes on mine. “Feels good, baby?” he teases me.
I want to say no, to convince myself this is wrong … But if it were, would it truly feel this good?
So I settle for a barely there nod and judging by his grin, it’s good enough for my husband.
He settles back between my legs, and this time, he drives me even crazier. He sucks on my clit, gently grazing it with his teeth until I moan with the pleasure coursing through my body.
I feel the wetness dripping down my legs, but he laps up every single drop and then some, making sure I’m licked clean and dry.
Finally, I can feel my legs twitching, a sure sign of an orgasm about to rock my body. Just as I’m about to come, Dylan raises his body over mine, thrusting his cock in my ready entrance with a single push.
I moan loudly when he enters me, my walls fitting his cock perfectly, just like they always did. I take him in, my pussy devouring him, as I claim him just as much as he does me.
“You feel so good,” he groans in my ear and I whimper in response, feeling the waves of pleasure rolling across my body.
Then, his lips descend on mine, and tasting my own juices on his tongue is an aphrodisiac like none other. I grab his chin and pull him closer, kissing him so deeply, so passionately, I fear I’ll consume his very being.
But he seems to see the need I have to be close to him as he thrusts just a little bit harder and deeper, our kiss becoming more and more passionate.
Finally, his mouth moves from my bruised and battered lips and we moan together.
“Look at me, doll,” he asks me, and I open my eyes, looking him straight in the eyes. Today, they’re not as steel grey as they usually are; instead, they have a tinge of warmth to them.
And I know it’s there for me. I am the one who put that little ray of sunshine in his eyes, and I intend to be the reason it stays in that exact same spot for the rest of our time together.
Which, if I have anything to do with it, will be forever.
“Dylan,” I moan against his neck, but he takes my face in his hands, gently moving it so our eyes stay locked on each other’s.
I watch his pupils dilate, his irises peppered with so many shades of grey it makes me think there must be more colors in the world that we haven’t discovered, and most of them are hidden right here, in my husband’s eyes.
There’s the darkness, the dark grey, almost black.
For his sister, and his brother. For all his losses, for all the things he wishes he had done.
For Adam, even though he deserved what happened to him.
For Venetia.
For poor, battered Marc.
There’s the blue tinged grey, for our little baby son, who has baby blues just like his momma, but looks more like his Dad otherwise. He calls him his little Mini Me.
And the rosy tinged grey, the one that is most dominant, and only for me. The soft, warm shade is a symbol of love and affection, of good times and hard things, of everything we’ve been through together.
And all together, they make the most beautiful blend
of colors, making his eyes stand out in a sea of others.
“You’re not here,” he complains, and I’m transported back to reality.
I wrap my arms around my husband’s neck, pulling him down against my body, needing to be as close as possible. I take one of his hands and place it directly on my heart, which is beating steadily in my chest.
“Always here,” I tell him softly. “Always yours.”
A blissful smile crosses his body, but then his muscles clench and I can tell he’s about to come. So I finally let my body relax too, waiting for the pleasure to roll over me.
And it does, more spectacularly than ever.
We come together, gasping each other’s names and afterwards, kissing one another with fervent, tired kisses, never having enough of one another.
I lie in Dylan’s arms that night, and hours later, he starts stroking my hair.
“Sleeping?” he asks me softly, and I shake my head, knowing we both can’t fall asleep. And thankfully, it’s not because we were scared or frightened, but because we’re relishing this perfect night, not wanting it to end.
He pulls me on top of him until my stomach is on his and we’re eye to eye, his rough fingers combing through my hair as he gazes into my eyes with so much love it’s overwhelming.
“Tell me you’ll be mine forever,” he asks suddenly, and I notice his hands shaking lightly as he makes his request.
I look at him with surprise.
“I need to know,” he groans, and I realize he needs the affirmation. Needs me to tell him we’re out of the woods … The worst has happened and we’re out of the darkness. All that’s left is the light at the end of the tunnel.
I smile softly as I tell him exactly that, and his expression softens a little.
“And, Dylan,” I say softly, and his eyes immediately start to glow with the need to hear me say it. “I will always be yours, because this …”
I slide a finger across his heart.
“This is where I belong, and I never want to leave. Forever yours, my love …”
He strokes my hair affectionately and this time I’m the one who gives him a cheeky grin, which he follows up with a smile of his own.
“What?” he asks, grinning like a fool.
I shrug; deciding now might be as good a time as any to share my news. “You’ll be a Daddy again,” I admit shyly, and he immediately lifts me up and into his arms until I’m straddling him.
“Really?” he whispers to my lips, and I nod slowly.
The kiss that follows reassures me for all eternity, it’s so full of love, the caring, the need he will always have for me.
He takes my face in his arms and we look deep into one another’s eyes.
“Always, Lola,” my husband promises me.
I leave a soft, long kiss on his lips before I move on to his ear and whisper in it. “Always, my only love …”
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Love,
Stella