Chapter Twenty-Nine

I genuinely cannot believe thatthis gorgeous, clever, and witty creature sitting by my side is mine. Life doesn't get any better than this, does it? All the struggles I've been through to get to this moment have been worth it. A million fucking times over. Especially when her pearly laugh fills my ears like it does now. I bagged Genevieve Kensington, and no accomplishment will ever be that rewarding.

"I swear," she struggles to say between laughs. "My mother grabbed my arm and dragged me out so fast. ‘Genevieve, this man is a former president of the United States!'" she adds, mimicking what must be her mother's shrill voice. "But how was I supposed to know?"

"How old were you?"

"Six!"

"Yeah, I reckon that's fair," I reply, amused. "What happened after?"

"Well, I was forbidden from attending galas, which I really didn't mind. But then Victoria refused to go if I couldn't come, so my parents decided to debrief me a lot more instead."

"Did you obey?"

She doesn't say right away, mischievously biting her lower lip. I know the answer right then, even before she shakes her head. "Within a month, I got us out of gala duty for good."

"So, you've been a determined little thing your whole life. Consider me warned."

A small giggle spills out of her pink lips, her eyes lifting from her nearly empty glass. "Your turn. Tell me something about your childhood," she softly asks.

There are two different versions of me as a kid, one of which is always hard to talk about. Before my mother's death, I was like any child with a single parent struggling to make ends meet. What came after though, was devoid of innocence and joy, a dark era that nearly ruined all of her hard work.

"I told you my mum was a nurse, right?" I ask, to which Gen nods. "Well, when I was too young to take care of myself and she couldn't find a sitter, she sometimes smuggled me into the hospital's break room, gave me a pile of blank paper sheets from the copier, a cup full to the brim with pencils that she nicked from the pediatric wing, and she left me there while she worked. She came back to check on me as often as she could, and she sang me lullabies when I was ready to fall asleep on the beat-up couch. I think that's where my passion for drawing stems from."

"She sounds like a great mom. She really tried her best to care for you despite her little means."

"She was, and she did. Life wasn't easy, but she shielded me from all her money struggles. She used to tell me I was the best thing she'd ever done, her perfect boy with the face of an angel. After her death, I spiraled into some bad stuff until I realized I was ruining everything she had worked so hard for, destroying her legacy by being a stupid twat. So, I picked myself up, stopped the self-pitying, and decided to become a man she'd be proud of, her perfect boy. I work hard, make honest money, respect women, give to charities… She's also the reason why I never had piercings or tattoos on my face."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I reckon that if we're to meet again in the afterlife, I want her to see me with the angel face she always thought I had."

Gen gives me a small smile, and her soft hand comes to rest on the side of my jaw, giving me a tender caress. "She would be so proud to see how far you've come, wombat."

I twist my face enough to kiss the inside of her palm. We've been sitting here for half an hour, eating, drinking, and chatting like it's the most natural thing in the world. I didn't expect it to last that long, but we never run out of things to talk about, which is a great sign.

Still, the potatoes won't remain hot for much longer, so either I excuse myself to turn on the oven, or we move on to the next stage.

"Should we eat?" I suggest.

"Yes, please. The meat smells so good I'm practically drooling."

We stand up together, and I motion for her to go ahead. As she walks her perky little arse up to the dinner table, I admire her silhouette, as mesmerized as when I saw her exit her building. She removed her leather jacket earlier, and I think this might be my favorite dress she's ever worn. I don't know if it's a single thing or two pieces, but I'm going to need her to wear those two things separately—the lacey one and the tiny one, with nothing but those shoes.

Fuck, this woman is beyond gorgeous.

She offers to help me set up the plates, but I refuse and refill her glass with more wine instead, pulling out her chair for her to sit.

I sense her eyes on me as I work with efficient moves, cutting thin slices into the meat, which is juicy and tender, and using a cookie cutter to create perfectly round servings of potatoes. I add a precise pour of rosemary-infused gravy and some fresh rosemary for decoration and get rid of the apron.

"Do you realize how sexy that just was?" she asks when I approach with the plates.

"What was?"

"You, cooking."

"Well, you should see me cook naked," I tease with a half grin.

"I have seen you cook naked. Jumped you before you were finished, remember?"

"Oh, I remember everything, red."

She blushes from delight rather than embarrassment, and I settle our plates on the table. As I sit, she leans forward to smell the result of my hard work. Once I'm seated, she allows herself to take a first bite with some of everything on her fork. That causes her to moan and roll her eyes.

"I hope you know you're ridiculous," she says after swallowing.

"I am?"

"Yeah, I know you're faking it. There's no way you're this perfect, Jake."

"I assure you I have my fair share of flaws, red."

"Name one."

"I'm possessive."

Something flickers in her eyes, but it's more like approval than judgment. "I don't mind that. I'm ashamed to say it, but I quite like it, actually. Next."

For the next few minutes, we play this fun little game where I list my flaws and she argues in their favor or diminishes their impact. I'm a workaholic—welcome to the club. I'm stubborn—she's probably worse. I'm impulsive—she reminds me she joined a dating app to get dicked by a guy with piercings. I'm competitive—she's willing to crush her colleagues to get to the top. It goes on and on until I run out of things to list.

"See?" she insists with pride. "Not a single flaw on you."

"What about you? Any you'd like to share?"

Under the table, her foot has been grazing up and down my calf for a few minutes now, and it comes to a full stop as she frowns, acting deeply offended. "How dare you? I'm obviously flawless." Her graveness breaks quickly, though, and her perfectly plump lips stretch in one of her immaculate smiles.

I absolutely adore this Gen. So confident and carefree. The anxious and uptight woman I first met at The Plaza has entirely vanished, replaced by this foxy, playful, and blooming creature. I hope, maybe arrogantly, it was my influence that broke her out of her shell.

"Believe it or not, but I realized that very quickly, red," I confess. "I was wondering if you had anything you wished you could change about yourself—which I reckon would be a shame."

She thinks about it more seriously this time, the perfect arches of her auburn eyebrows knitting together. "I wish I were better at balancing my work life with my private life, but I think I'm slowly getting there. I'd be bored to death with my colleagues in some bar otherwise. Also, I wish I could be better at handling my parents because it would make everything so much easier. And lastly, I wish I was strong enough to say no to the amazing sex and go to Pilates instead."

That last one rips a genuine and frank laugh out of me. "I'm using my veto to demand you never fix the third one."

"The studio actually emailed me, Jake! They wanted to make sure I was still alive."

"What did you tell them? That you switched to a more pleasurable sport?"

"Ah, I should have," she realizes with a small pout.

We finish our plates, and when I offer her another serving, she shakes her head. "I'll have some again later—when we're in need of sustenance to keep going."

That is actually a great plan, so I dismiss my own desire for more. I'll perform better if I feel lighter. I take out the individual pavlovas I ordered for the occasion, passion fruit and mango, and set them on their own plates before I return to the table. The sun is now low under the horizon, and the fairy lights I worked on earlier give the place an enchanting aura.

"Jesus Christ, Jake. Did you bake this as well?" she asks when I put the dessert before her.

"I didn't, but I can bake a mean pavlova. Just didn't have time for it today."

"Of course you can. I'll eventually find out whatever flaw you're hiding from me, you know."

We dig right in, and the fact that she doesn't downright moan at the first bite kind of makes me proud. That's only for my food.

"You know you never showed me your work?" she points out halfway into it.

"Really?"

"I saw some of your sketches lying around, and I went on The Parlour's Instagram and found a couple of tattoos done by you. But you never actually showed me your drawings."

"That's an omission on my part, then. I have my tablet here, so we can settle somewhere, and I'll show you some of my latest stuff."

"I would love that, wombat."

The way my heart melts every time she uses that fucking pet name is ridiculous. I dread the day she lets it slip in front of Eli or Kill because they'll have a field day with it. But I enjoy it too much to ask her to stop.

We finish the desserts—I finish hers too—and while I clean up in the kitchen, she returns to the lounge area with our glasses and the rest of the wine. I do the bare minimum, just enough to avoid spoiling food, and join her there with my tablet. She's settled on the round day bed, looking at the few stars we vaguely see from here.

"Alright, time to woo you with my artistry," I say as I join her.

We arrange ourselves in a cuddling position, with our backs to the many cushions, and I unlock the screen to open my drawing app. Since I was using it earlier as I cooked, it's already opened on a full back piece, my latest artwork.

"Oh, is this for the soccer guy?"

"Yeah, he wants something with a Coleoptera native to Brazil."

"What kind of bug is that?"

"A beetle. I've been working on something that would work with what he has and the style he wants," I explain, opening a first draft.

We go through a few of those, and her little exclamations of surprise and admiration nearly do me in. Part of me wants to end this now and carry her downstairs like a caveman, but another part feeds on her approval with pride.

"You told me you did insects, but there's so much more than that, Jake. There's a whole masterpiece around it."

"Yeah, this is a big one, and I can't cover all of him in beetles. I reckon I can tattoo pretty much anything—I'm shit at the watercolor stuff, though."

"This is amazing. I'm so sorry I didn't ask to see it sooner."

"It's alright, we were busy with other things."

As if my teasing reminds her of those other things, she wriggles closer to me, her warmth seeping through our clothes. Now that it's dark out here, the temperature is dropping, so I ask, "Are you cold, red?"

"No, you're like a furnace. Keep going; I want to see more. What's your favorite one you've ever tattooed?"

For that, I have to go back to the other folders. I do that, scroll down, and realize I've made a terrible mistake when she tenses and says, "Wait, what was that?"

Shit.

"What?" I ask, still scrolling.

"There was a folder named ‘Gen.' What's in it, Jacob?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck.Not the government name.

As tempting as it is, I'm not gaslighting her into thinking she saw wrong, so I reluctantly scroll back up. She takes the tablet from my hands as she sits up and clicks on the folder herself. Feeling like a fucking moron, I keep my eyes on her face as she opens a first drawing. Then another. And another.

"You've been drawing me?" she asks, her tone so unreadable it's utter torture.

"I started the morning after Hana's birthday. I was bored and watching you sleep. Then it became an obsession because I could never capture the real you, and it drove me mad."

When she opens a new drawing that has her naked from the navel up, I wince and consider removing the tablet from her hands. This isn't how I expected the evening to go.

She's conflicted as she takes in the art, and I look down at it too. She looks like a Greek nymph, with her pink lips parted as if she were sighing, the lushness of her red hair that surrounds her porcelain skin, the delicate column of her throat, and the full breasts and their perky, rosy tips below.

"It's not a sex thing, Gen, I promise. Those are for my eyes only; I never took pictures, never shared these…"

"I'm too beautiful," she says out of the blue, still frowning.

"What?"

"You said you couldn't capture the real me. It's because I'm too beautiful in those drawings."

It's my turn to frown as my gaze repeatedly travels from her to the tablet. "You're exactly right in those drawings, red. It's your aura that I never manage to replicate."

She doesn't believe me, clearly unconvinced. So I reach for the screen and zoom in on her sleeping face. "Those drawings are exactly as you are, love. You've seen the beetles, you know I'm good at catching likeness. This is you. All of you, minus the most intricate details of your soul, which I'm still working on."

She blinks several times, her hold on the tablet becoming slack enough for me to pick it up and set it aside. "You really see me like this?" she asks, still puzzled.

"This and more. I see all of you, Gen. The beauty within and without. And I can safely say that I have never in my lifetime encountered a more gorgeous creature than you."

Several seconds pass without an answer, and I'm fairly certain I've managed to ruin the evening. Anguish gnaws at my insides, a heavy lump stuck in my throat. She's still hesitant when she finally replies.

"Coming from an insect guy, this isn't the compliment you think it is, Jacob." The shy ghost of a smile makes the corner of her lips twitch, and there's an unmistakably humorous glimmer in her eyes.

Maybe it's because I was so stressed, but I burst into laughter, both amused by her response and relieved that everything isn't lost. Once it recedes enough, I grab her nape and pull her in for a kiss, tilting my head to the side and enjoying the fruity taste of her. When I pull back, I lay my forehead on hers.

"I'm sorry for the sketches, red," I say with truthfulness. "I realize we never agreed on this, and I abused your trust when you were at your most vulnerable. It won't happen ag—"

"As long as they are only for you, I don't mind," she cuts me off. "I was surprised, yes. But ultimately, those drawings might be the most genuine compliment I've ever received."

Yet again, I'm thankful for how she's handling this, and anxiety slowly leaves my body. She's the one who initiates the next kiss, and we end up sprawled on the day bed, pulling and groping one another, lost in a lascivious embrace.

"Thank you for tonight, Jake," she says after several minutes of fervor, looking at me with wonderment. "It was even better than anything I expected."

"It was my pleasure, red. And you're not quite done with the surprises. I have another one for you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's in my trousers."

Her first reflex is to pat my front pockets, and when she finds nothing there, she tries to slip her hands toward my bum to check the back ones. "Oh, my sweet, innocent red." I can't help but say with a chuckle. "I said in my trousers, not my pocket."

Those big blue eyes meet mine, just in time for me to witness the way they widen when she realizes what I mean. The surrounding light is weak, but still enough for me to catch her blown-out pupils, black eating away the ocean of her irises. I lean back when she reaches for my belt and watch with amusement as she opens the zipper and button of my trousers. I'm not ready for her boldness when she shoves a keen hand in there, slithering it into my underwear to reach for my cock.

I'm hard as fuck, and she doesn't hesitate to wrap her slim fingers around me. Instantly, she understands what I meant, and her eyes become huge. When she tentatively grazes my rigid length, I clench my jaw, fighting back the pleasure she can bring with such a simple touch.

"You removed them all," she breathes.

I did. All seven piercings are in a sterilized box in the bathroom, waiting to be worn again after I've had her like this a few times. "I thought it would be all me tonight. Is that okay with you?"

"Of course it's okay," she assures me, stealing another hungry kiss.

We get caught up in it again, but this time, she's wanking me with her soft, delicate hand. I groan into our kiss, worried I'll come in my briefs like a fucking teenager.

"Can people see us from here?" she wonders, ripping herself away before kissing a heated path down my throat.

"No one ever called the cops on Eli for indecent exposure, so I don't think so—especially not at night like this. Why?"

"Who's innocent now?" she retorts with amusement.

I watch, entranced by her splendor, as she lowers herself on the bed and tugs my trousers down. "Oh, my naughty red. You want to have sex up here?"

She shakes her head, smirking mischievously. My cock's out now, au naturel, and she lowers to give it a kiss right on the underside of the head. It doesn't fail to do a little jump, a jolt of pleasure traveling down the length and into my balls.

"This is going to be so easy," she murmurs to herself, licking it from base to tip.

Fucking hell, of course this is what she wants. She's gotten even better at sucking me off with the piercings in, but like she said, this will be a walk in the park in comparison. Impatient to try, she doesn't tease me and wraps her warm mouth around the head of my dick. Then she lowers, her tongue sticking out underneath.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I groan, sending a hand on the back of her head.

I resist the urge to press her down when she lifts up, popping my glistening cock out of her mouth. Her hand that's holding the base starts wanking me, and I genuinely worry about how fast I'll be coming.

"Tell me," she starts, eyeing the tip with curiosity. "When you come without the apadravya in, does it—"

"Yes, it comes out of the piercing holes, too."

I don't even take a moment to think it might gross her out. But that would be a wrong assumption. Gen is adventurous and curious, first and foremost. My answer seems to delight her, and her hold on me tightens as if she's impatient to make me climax and witness the explosive result for herself.

All other thoughts I might have are relocated to the back of my mind when she takes me in her mouth again, her deft little tongue licking the sensitive underside.

Fucking hell, how could this woman ever think she was boring?

This little experiment is going great, and I almost regret not removing the piercings sooner. First, Gen has a much easier time sucking my cock, nearly deepthroating it with her usual eagerness.

Then, it helps with my stamina since I don't have the sensation of the piercings adding to the pleasure of her tight little cunt. I was a goner in three minutes on the roof, but then I lasted a solid fifteen minutes in bed before I came like a maniac. Now, we're going twenty minutes, and I'm confident I can hold back another ten.

Last but not least, the lack of piercings doesn't get in the way of Gen enjoying my cock. No, she still comes with remarkable ease, even without them dragging on her walls.

If I had any doubts about that, the way she's riding me right now would have dismissed them. Her back is to me, and her arse jumps up and down as I let her do the work.

Leaving the dog with Eli was a good idea because my innocent Grubsy can't catch us being this wild and uninhibited. She'd lose her spot in dog heaven, for fucking sure.

My wild cowgirl has gone full reverse, and while I regret not seeing her flushed face twisted by pure bliss, I sure as hell don't mind the view. Her freckled bum is right there for the taking—which I do, kneading the mounds with my fingers and palms. At least I get to enjoy her moans and soft cries as they echo in the loft.

I'm confident I can withstand another one of her orgasms when she apparently decides to prove me wrong. She leans forward, abandoning her upright position, and that exposes everything between her legs, from the puckered hole above where she's impaled on me to the swollen and drenched lips of her pussy stretched wide around my cock. She has a hand down her front, rubbing her clit to finish herself.

Fuck, that's it for me. Men are visual creatures, and this immaculate spectacle will have me nutting in under a minute.

Because it's my only option if I don't want to finish before her, I move my thumb to the tight hole above where I'm slipping in and out of her and push it in. I don't wait for her approval because we both know she loves it when I finger her arsehole.

"Aah, Jake!" she cries out when I fuck her with it.

"You want more, red?" I taunt.

"Yes!"

Instead of my thumb, I shove my index and middle finger inside her, pumping them in and out as she keeps riding my cock. I can feel her spasms around me and even see them, her whole pelvic floor pulsing from her pending climax. Because I know it'll make her topple over the edge, I add my ring finger and use all three digits to wreck her.

She cries out my name and tenses, and then everything spasmodically clamps down as she experiences her biggest orgasm of the night. I squeeze my eyes shut as she rides it.

One more. I need to stay strong one more time, and then we come together. After that, we can get ourselves some leftovers from dinner and have a short nap before we start again.

My jaw is locked and every muscle is flexed while I fight the urge to join her in bliss. I can't believe I came twice tonight and already find myself fighting for my life. But her gushing pussy feels so good, and her cries of bliss are so enticing. The power this woman has over me is un-fucking-believable.

The hectic ups and downs of her hips eventually slow, and so does the clenching of her pussy and arse. I don't know who I owe my success to, but I didn't come, and I'm really fucking proud of that.

As she recuperates, I slip my fingers out of her and reach for the wet wipes we settled on the nightstand earlier. I give each of my fingers a thorough clean and then start over with a fresh one. No cross-contamination in this house.

With one last sigh of abandoned bliss, she removes herself from my lap, my hard and angry-looking dick slipping out of her to fall back on my stomach, covered in her cum. She's a messy girl, always flooding my cock when she comes, and I love it.

She turns around, exposing her reddened face to my gaze, and I gorge on the view of her spent body, her limbs weak and shaky as she makes her way up to me. She presses herself on my side, as sweaty as I am, and grants me a long and lazy kiss. Her delicate hand reaches for my erection, which she tentatively strokes with a feathery and unhurried touch.

"I take it you like my cock even without the piercings?" I cockily ask.

"Definitely. It feels more manageable, like we can fuck all night and I won't have a limp in the morning."

It's a little insulting how she underestimates me like that. Time for another lesson. "How about we test out that theory?"

She thinks about my offer for a few seconds, her eyes locked on my length as she keeps running her fingertips over it. "Jake, I think I—I think I want to try."

"To fuck all night?"

"No, that one's a given. But it looks a lot less intimidating, and I think I want to try to have it in my… other part?"

That, right there, is another very valid reason to regret not removing the piercings sooner.

"You want me to fuck you in the arse?" I ask just to make sure.

"I want to try. You used three fingers on me just now, right?"

I nod, grazing the soft curve of her hip.

"And there was nothing but pleasure from it. I think if we take our time, you could fit inside me."

Clearly, I want to do it. I've been dying to do it since I first saw that screenshot Eli sent me. But I don't want her to rush into it or feel obligated to on my account. I've made a few jokes about it in the past, but they were in no way passive-aggressive attempts at making her yield.

"You're sure you want this, red?"

She nods, looking beyond edible with her pink cheekbones, messy hair, swollen lips, and glimmering eyes. "We'll stop if it hurts or I don't like it, okay?"

"Of course. You'll set the pace, love. I will only enjoy it if you do, so let's make it pleasurable for both of us, yeah?"

She nods, almost shyly, and we exchange another one of those longing kisses. Because I know how to make it good for her, I decide to take charge. I grab another wipe off the nightstand and use it on her, cleaning her up.

Her body harbors some tension but is pliant as I reorganize her toward the edge of the bed, with her front lying on it and her knees on the floor. I throw the lube from my nightstand on the mattress next to her. Then, I spread her cheeks with eager hands and take a moment to admire the pink and drenched folds of her cunt, as well as the tight hole above. When I bend down to lick the taut spot she wants me in, she's a lot more relaxed than when we did it with the whipped cream.

I lick her, sometimes lowering to plunge my tongue into her slit, and she arches and moans on the bed, pushing her delectable bum harder against me to demand more. When she begins mewling my name like a plea, hands fisting the covers and body writhing, I decide that's enough, and I drag my tongue all the way from the crack of her arse to the back of her neck.

With a hand between us, I gather some wetness from her pussy and spread it higher.

"So, you want me in there, red?" I tease right into her ear, pushing three fingers in but only a knuckle deep.

"Yes," she whimpers.

"You want me to fuck this?" Another set of knuckles sinks into her, and I gently fuck her with them.

"I do. Please, Jake."

"My cock's a lot bigger than these. You realize that, love?" The fingers disappear inside her fully, which makes her cry out softly.

"I'll take it. I promise I'll take it."

"What a good girl you are. Relax for me, love," I whisper, stretching her wider by spreading my fingers apart. "That's it. You really want my cock in there, red. You're working so hard for it."

She moans, arching against my hand to get more.

"You think you're ready for it?"

"Yes."

"I think you are, too."

I let go of her, and after a quick cleanup with a wipe, I take the lube and spread a generous dose of it on the relaxed ring. Then I squeeze a line on my cock, and spread it all over the length.

She complies when I pull her up on the bed. I sit down with my back against the headboard and bring her on top of me, straddling me again but with her front to mine this time.

"We'll do it like this, love. You're in charge, you take your time, and you don't force it, alright?"

She nods, visibly nervous, and I do the only thing I can think of to distract her. We kiss in a manner that is both tender and lustful until she's writhing on top of me, her fingers clutching the short hair on the back of my head.

While she's distracted, I reach for my cock between us and align it with the tautness of her arse. I don't have to give her any more encouragement or reassuring words, it seems, because she immediately pushes back against the tip. "That's it, red. Open up, take my big cock."

I'm almost taken by surprise when the head fully slips past the recalcitrant muscle. "Fuck, you feel so good, love. So snug and hot."

A shy roll of her hips makes her sink lower, and we both let out a small moan. "Does it feel good for you too, red?"

"Yes, I feel so full."

"There's a lot more of me left, baby."

"I know, just…"

Up and down she goes, and another inch of me disappears in her. Fuck, she's doing great. I'm closely monitoring her focused expression, making sure she's not hurting herself on me. There's some discomfort on her heated features, but pleasure seems to drown out everything else.

"Stay relaxed, love, and everything will be fine."

My hands graze a languorous path down her back as she writhes her hips slowly, taking barely more of me every time she lowers. With my palms full of her bum, I bring her closer to me so the wet expanse of her pussy is pressed on my lower abdomen.

"Do it like this," I softly suggest, using my hold on her to bring her up and down. Her slick center drags against me, stimulating her clit on my lower abs.

I let her lead, like I promised, regardless of how much I want to push inside her tautness. The ring of her arsehole is choking my cock, and since she can't take much yet, it's the sensitive head that's enduring most of it. But I'm so focused on her that I don't even think of how fucking good she feels.

When she takes my lips, I eagerly comply, distracting her the best I can with our kiss. She's rubbing herself on me to seek pleasure, bouncing up and down and swaying her hips from front to back. We kiss, and we fuck, or rather she fucks me, and I get lost in time enjoying her, completely entranced by her scent, the softness of her skin, the greed of her tongue, the raspiness of her moans… She's a goddess, and a mere mortal like me doesn't deserve her perfection.

She's the one ripping herself away from me first, moaning my name in a way that makes my cock throb.

"You're doing so good, red. So fucking good."

My words seem to trigger a need to please me even more, and she takes a whole other inch inside her. She whimpers helplessly, and her forehead comes to my shoulder. "No, look at me," I demand, craving the connection.

When she does, still keeping up with her careful momentum, I notice that her eyebrows are twisted with what resembles pain. "Does it hurt?"

She adamantly shakes her head. "There's a stretch, but I like it."

"Of course you do, my naughty, naughty girl."

I let go of her bum and palm one of her tits instead. Her nails dig into the skin of my shoulder when I take its rosy tip in my mouth. I play with it the way she likes it, sucking, licking, biting… Her momentum gains in assurance, and she's soon riding me as if I were in her pussy, still grinding her clit on me with every thrust.

That's when I start losing my concentration because I'm not as worried about her comfort and can focus on how fantastic she feels around me. Nearly all of me has disappeared inside her now, and I'm so proud of her for this.

I can feel my tipping point nearing, but that's okay because she's getting close too. Those small cries are familiar, and she'll explode with pleasure soon.

"You feel so good in my ass," she moans, unprompted.

Just like that, I'm a goner. The climax that strikes takes me by surprise, and I barely have time to grab her hips to hold her down as my cock throbs inside her. Cum shoots out of my tip, coating the warm walls of her arse. Jolts shake me as I find relief, and I keep her close, emptying my balls inside her. I curse when I realize she isn't quite there yet, but I can't do anything about it right now, too lost in bliss.

As soon as the last spurt is out, I force my muscles to relax and bring a hand between us. I'm not subtle or gentle as I deftly handle her clit in a way I know will make her finish. In seconds, she's letting out a scream with my name on it and tipping into bliss. Her insides pulse and compel a few more drops of my cum to seep out.

Once her climax is over, she turns boneless, her sweaty and satiated body sprawled against me. She shows no haste in pulling me out of her, so I take it she doesn't mind the sensation. We slowly come down together, panting in unison.

"Anal on the first date," I groan as soon as I remember how to form sentences. "I can't believe you ever thought you were boring."

She lets out a breathy, exhausted giggle. "You're an idiot."

"And you're fucking perfect, red."

Her head is against my shoulder, and her febrile finger follows the intricate designs inked on my chest. I rake my hands over her back, forever in awe of how soft she is everywhere. These post-nut moments with her are a delight. Before her, my goal was to make whoever I brought home leave as soon as my balls were empty. But Gen made me discover what comes after, and these moments are just as much a part of it as foreplay. We're always so relaxed and blissful, satisfied beyond words, and in complete communion.

I've never felt this close to anyone before her, and I doubt I ever will. My soul and hers are entwined, and no matter our outcome, part of her will forever stay with me. Proper little Miss Kensington has carved herself a spot in my heart. A big one.

"You know how I removed some other stuff from my list, not just anal?" she asks, her voice almost a whisper.

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, I was obviously wrong about this one, so I'm probably wrong about those, too. I think I want to try them as well."

"With pleasure. There's one we're never doing, though."

She frowns and looks up, meeting my gaze with her blue eyes. "Which one?"

"The threesome. We'll do me and a toy, but no one else gets to fuck you, red."

She thinks about it briefly and then wonders, "Even if it's with another woman?"

"Sharing you isn't an option. I told you I was possessive."

Her understanding smile shows she doesn't mind, and she kisses the underside of my jaw. "Then we'll do you and a toy. Not that you need it, you're a damn powerhouse."

I'm smiling like an imbecile when I kiss the top of her head and pull her closer.

"Wombat, can I return the favor and take you on a date next Friday?"

"I'd love that, but…" I hesitate. I want us to bask in this moment a little longer, but I've been delaying this news for long enough.

She senses that something's off and pushes herself away enough to face me. "What?"

"I didn't want to tell you sooner because it wasn't a sure thing, but it was confirmed earlier today. I'm flying to LA for six days next week, from Thursday to Wednesday."

"Really?" The disappointment in her voice is hard to bear.

"Trust me, I'd rather stay here with you instead. It was supposed to be ten days, but I wanted to be here on the 21st, so I postponed my departure."

"What's on the 21st?"

I raise a brow at her, poorly hiding my pride. "You don't know?"

She ponders, eyebrows knitted together as she does. Then it clicks, and her face lights up. "Two months. It's our two-month anniversary."

I kiss her, endeared by her elation. "It is. I first found you perched on that stool at The Plaza on April 21st."

"So, we're celebrating before you leave for LA?"

"We absolutely are."

She grins and returns to her previous position, plastered all over me while she outlines my tattoos with her fingertips. "I'm going to miss you," she mumbles.

"Me too, red. Looking forward to the phone sex, though."

She giggles, and I welcome the sound. It's less than a week, and I'm sure we'll manage to keep things interesting despite being twenty-five hundred miles apart.

Then when I come back, we're on for a proper fuck fest.