by Jan Bowles
A gentle gasp left her lips as he filled her completely. Her back arched and he kissed her breasts, sucking the large brown nipples into his mouth until they formed into tight buds. He swirled his tongue over the sensitive nubs as he continued thrusting into her tight, wet pussy. As he looked down between their bodies, he saw his cock glistening with her feminine juices as he relentlessly filled her over and over again.
Ella’s stomach undulated with the increased breathing, and he knew she was close once more. Max lifted her sexy butt from the bed, so just her shoulders and head remained in contact with the mattress. The angle of penetration was perfect for hitting that sweet, sexy piercing that adorned her clit. It rubbed along the length of his shaft as he continued pounding inside her, building pleasure upon pleasure for his beautiful, perfect woman and himself. Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly. He smiled into her eyes as she explosively climaxed again.
“I will never tire of seeing you lose yourself like this.” Her contractions of ecstasy rippled and pulsed around his cock. Max kissed her lips savoring every exquisite spasm and arch of her body. He loved her with every breath that he took.
From tragedy had come something totally unexpected—love. The moment his best friend Kirk had killed himself, he’d set a chain of events rolling, all leading to this one moment. He figured his buddy had lost the will to live after losing Kathy. If anything happened to Ella he wouldn’t want to carry on, either. That was why he had to make each day with her count. He had to cherish every moment as if it were his last, because one could never be sure when it would all end.
Max rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Still impaled on his cock, she felt so small and delicate lying on top of him. He stroked a hand down each side of her face as she looked into his eyes.
“I would be honored if you will take the slave ceremony with me. It will make our relationship permanent, and everlasting.”
Ella slowly caressed her fingers over the tattoo that decorated his right hip. “I want your mark on me, Max. It will make me feel a part of you.”
He kissed her lips, feeling at one with her, and so very proud. “I will take you to meet my mother in Sicily.” When his father had died twelve years ago, his mother had been heartbroken and returned to the island. It had taken her several years to regain her free spirit. Now he understood that deep-rooted devotion and love. Max smiled. “She’s very old-fashioned. She wouldn’t understand or approve of the slave ceremony. We will get married on the island. It’s such a beautiful part of the world. It will make my mother very happy. She’s been urging me to get married for years.”
“Max, what if she doesn’t like me?”
“Have no fear, little one, she will love you like I do.”
Ella pulled herself upright, riding his prick as she leaned further and further back. Her whole body swayed to a rhythm as she ground her pussy repeatedly down his shaft. He’d never seen her look more radiant and beautiful. As Max watched her enjoy herself, he matched her movements with thrusts of his own. Ella tossed back her head, crying out as another orgasm crashed through. Her pussy throbbed around his dick, teasing the semen up his shaft. His balls quivered and a powerful surge exploded deep inside the woman he loved—Ella.
His soul mate and the woman he would love to the end of time.
Epilogue
Six months later
The honeymoon: Calatabiano, San Marco Beach, Sicily, 6.30 p.m.
Ella plucked the white rose she’d just been admiring in the hotel garden, and lifted it to her nose. She smiled. Uniquely perfumed by the hot summer sun and salty air, it smelled wonderful. Just like Sicily itself. She raised her head and stared down the steps toward the beach. Max was a few hundred yards away, strolling easily in the clear, shallow waters of the Ionian Sea as it rolled gently in. With the wind whipping through his hair he looked wonderful. Ella sighed. She loved him with all her heart.
Quickly, she ran down the short flight of stone steps, kicked off her sandals, and crossed the sandy beach to join him. Leaning against his body, she linked her arm through his.
Max smiled, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Happy?” he asked.
“Happy and sad, Max. Happy that we’re finally married, but sad we return to the States tomorrow. I’ve had such a wonderful time. I don’t want it to end.”
Married just three weeks ago, they’d spent their entire honeymoon on the beautiful island of Sicily. Max’s birthplace had turned out to be a real treasure. They’d stayed in a wonderful Baroque-style castle in Calatabiano. The large, opulent hotel boasted wonderful turrets and ornate luxury, and came with a picturesque garden that contained all the plants that Max cultivated in his inner courtyard back home. Every night they would dine in style, under fabulous crystal chandeliers.
“Don’t be sad, I promise you, we will return here every year, Ella.”
“Really?”
He playfully touched her nose. “Firstly, to celebrate our wedding anniversary, and secondly, to give my mother time with our children.”
Ella’s heart soared. “Your mother is a wonderful lady.” They’d hit it off immediately.
“She adores you, Ella. You can do no wrong in her eyes.”
“Good, I’m glad. I love her as though she were my own mother.” They strolled further along the beach, hand in hand, watching the sun slowly dip below the horizon in a stain of bright crimson and yellow. Mount Etna rose high and majestic behind them, brooding and silent. The dark sandy beach was a beautiful and permanent reminder of its awe-inspiring volcanic power.
A smile spread on her lips. “Children. I like the sound of that, Max.”
Max immediately stopped walking, and turned to her. He stared into her eyes and slowly caressed his fingers down the side of her face. “Me, too, Ella. Nothing would give me more pleasure than seeing you pregnant with our child.”
“Oh, Max, you say the loveliest things.”
“That’s because I love you.”
A sense of calm overwhelmed her. The right man had come from the most tragic of circumstances. “I love you, too, Max. I always will.”
He pulled her into his arms. “To know you wear my mark brings me such peace, too. It joins us together forever.”
“I feel so complete with your mark tattooed on me.” Ella touched her hip where Max’s initials had been inked into her skin. It was the exact same design as the one he wore. Each intricately woven letter bound them together like nothing else could. They might be married in the eyes of the law, and wear gold bands on their fingers, but it was the tattoo that truly emphasized the binding commitment they shared.
Ella handed the rose she held to Max. “Please accept this rose as a sign of my submission.” She knelt in front of him, and lowered her head out of love and respect.
Max tenderly held it in his hand, then stroked the delicate bud with his fingers. “I accept this rose as a sign of your submission.” His deep voice filled her with comfort. He cupped her chin and angled her face to his. Her heart sang with joy at the love she saw there. “Ella, to me you are like the fragile petals of this rose. You have many layers that I will delicately peel away, one by one. Come.” He pulled her upright and began leading her back to the hotel. “I’m sure they will take us a lifetime to discover.”
THE END
WWW.JANBOWLES.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
At present Jan Bowles lives with her husband in an old farmhouse in Lincolnshire, England, UK.
She would like to think that she’s a free spirit, having lived in various parts of the UK and Europe. When she was younger she lived in Los Angeles, and traveled by car across the entire length of Route 66 to Chicago and then finally linked the journey to New York. It was an experience that Jan has never forgotten.
Jan has an inquiring mind, and will often muse about events having an everlasting effect on the human psyche. There is always a reason why people act the way they do. You just have to look below the surface. She hopes to bring these ideas to her
writing.
When she’s not writing Jan likes to paint large landscapes and sweeping vistas. She loves walking, and there’s nothing more she’d rather do than stand on the top of a hill with the wind blowing through her hair, and yep, if it’s raining that’s all the better. Jan says there’s nothing like nature to make one feel truly alive.
Also by Jan Bowles
Siren Classic: Guilty Pleasures 1: In Debt to the Dom
Everlasting Classic: Guilty Pleasures 2:
Bought for the Billionaire’s Bed
Everlasting Classic: Guilty Pleasures 3: Tamed by the Dom
For all other titles, please visit
http://www.bookstrand.com/jan-bowles
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com