There was no race to a hypothetical finish line, there was only joy at the journey and there was no destination either.
It was a buffet of caresses and nibbles, and the white hot sparks persisted in spite of the snail’s pace they took.
His member never left her for one second and even with her minute gyrations, there was only a scant inch to delineate one thrust from the next. But she used her scalding walls with intention, milked her husband for all she was worth. The air was filled to the brim with the sweet scent of their love and the song of their sex.
Spencer’s fingers never left her, not for a split second as he charted every inch of her the way olden cartographers would. Inch by inch and mile by mile with attention given to every landmark along the way. The pace was so slow, it was as if he were spellbound and sensations drifted down her flesh feather light, but screamingly intense.
He mapped her face, neck, nape, elbows, even her kinked up toes curled behind his back.
And it never stopped, never seemed to cease.
Her hair stood on end, she could see the filaments on her arms raise as if the nerves beneath the skin prepared for the surge of pleasure beforehand. It was overload, too much. So much to digest all at once, as if she had been force fed pleasure via intravenous drip with no controls. She sobbed after a while, tears dripped from her eye lids and only in that moment did she beg for him to make it all end.
“Please! Finish it!” She pleaded with every fiber of her being and even allowed him to see the desperation that rode like a monkey on her back.
Finish me.
“Not yet. Hold that feeling, right here.” His hand rubbed over her belly as he ringed her naval with a thumb.
But he didn’t slake her thirst, instead started over again.
Demolished her with soothing touches that only tightened the lid on the fiery desire, a lid atop a pressure cooker.
Then the unending circuit repeated.
And he even attempted a third pass, but she fought him for it with a rock of hips and a bite on his shadowed jaw. Her eyes drifted closed and Juniper surrendered the sliver of control she had left.
There was a break somewhere in the picture, but she had no idea when it occurred. All she knew was that he rubbed a sliver of cheese over her lips which she accepted. Then he took a sip from the glass of champagne, the liquid was offered to her in a stream via his lips. Then she tasted a strawberry, a cherry and a bit of toasted bread with brie smeared over the faintly charred crust.
And when all was said and done with the first intermission, Juniper thought she was back under control. In a place where she could breathe freely again.
But she was wrong.
Oh, so wrong.
Spencer only had to cup his palm over the nape of her neck and her body sprang back to life once again at the mere memory of what his fingers were capable of inciting.
When he finally allowed the orgasm to roll through her with a simple kiss and held in the grip of his punishingly tight arms, the sensations lasted forever and a day. Juniper felt as if she had floated away, untethered from the moor of her own body.
Juniper thought yabyum was beautiful before, but eight hours into her honeymoon, it had become her favorite thing on Earth. He pulsed inside of her thick and strong with no barriers between them. The spellbinding intimacy of the full body hug was extra icing atop the multi-orgasmic cake.
The moments they spent alone were never wasted in a race to the finish line, but every second was an exploration of parts unknown. Every caress of his hands was a gentle decent into a buffet of decadence, where Juniper binged as if starved.
They only took breaks to go to the bathroom or sleep.
Almost every meal served during the two week interval was sampled from the cradle of their conjoined bodies.
They even took a micro nap or two in the pose, only to wake up and continue where they left off. She would wake from those moments on the cusp of an orgasm he’d elicited from her already sated body, which was ready for more even while her mind was on a well-earned hiatus.
She was never letting this man go.
And from the looks of things, he felt exactly the same about her.
God is good, all the time.
Also by Jennifer Willows:
Amid Lovers & Thieves (Part One of Mafioso’s Creed)
Another Man’s Woman
Deus Ex Machina
Juju and the Perfect Stranger: Jack and Jil
Loganne’s Run
Not Just a One Night Stand (Part Two)
Once Burned
One Night Stand (Part One)
Please Me: Parisian Passion (Part One)
Please Me: Parisian Punishment (Part Two)
Please Me: Perfectly Parisian (Part Three)
Scarred
Together/Forever
The Virgin Chronicles
Published by Siren Bookstrand:
Bound by Accident (Book One of the Moreland Brothers)
Lust for Life (Book Two of the Moreland Brothers)
A Harem of One (Book Three of the Moreland Brothers)
The Laughing Assassin (Part One of Assassin’s Diary)
Once Burned Page 14