I grin wickedly. “Then I’ll buy you a new bed too.”
“Well, in that case…”
“If it breaks, then the floor will serve. Or the wall. Anything and anywhere.”
“Okay, I’m in.”
I scoop us away from the pile of debris that was once a table, cradle Luna gently like I could break her, and make my way down the hall. I’ve never been into her room. I know it’s there, but I’ve never been in it before. She was right when she said I never fully listened to her—to what she wanted and liked.
I have no idea what I’ll find in there. What kind of furniture is even her style? Was it bought out of necessity or by choice? Was it the easiest thing to lug up the stairs and assemble? Or did she take her time picking things out and refining her choices? The rest of the furniture in the house says she bought things that were comfortable and usable, but also things that were easy to lug up a narrow set of metal stairs. I wonder who helped her move. Did she pay for movers, or her family pitched in?
I open the door with Luna in my arms, and she’s wriggling against me just enough that my dickasaurus-rex is hard enough to use as a battering ram just in case the door is locked. But of course, it isn’t. It swings open, revealing bright yellow paint, curtains with flowers on them at the windows, and an antique bedroom set. It’s wood. That’s all I know. And it’s also pretty. I have no idea about the decade or era, but I can appreciate these things because Luna chose them.
I glance around the room for two seconds, sparing a second look at the tall dressers, impressive wardrobe, second longer dresser, and the headboard, which has two posts and a middle section. It’s probably queen-sized, though it’s old, so maybe it’s one of those strange sizes. But whatever size it is, it looks sturdy enough to withstand both our weights together, and right now, that’s what I’m primarily concerned with.
My dick throbs, and my nuts threaten to leap up and smack me in the face until I’m good and senseless. Okay, so they have other concerns, but I’m getting to that—to them. And soon. But first, I plan to take my time with Luna since I still have a good few hours to do so.
I set Luna down gently on top of a pretty quilt with flowers on it. She doesn’t release me but tugs me down with her. I cage her in with my arms, locking her between my thighs, where she fits entirely perfectly. So. Perfect.
I bend my head and worship her perfect breasts. Her nipples are hard and straining, and I use my tongue to tease and coax them until they’re beyond rigid and pulsing, and she’s wriggling, squirming, and panting below me.
I love every bit of her. Every perfect swell and valley, dip and curve. I also love her soft, silky skin. She’s exquisitely beautiful, and she’s all mine. I’m never going to be foolish enough to let this woman go again.
I direct all my attention to her delicious and wonderful breasts. I coax her nipples with my tongue, suckle her into my mouth, and ply her until she’s arching up into me, straining and panting hard. I keep going until she clasps my face between her sweet little palms and drags me up for the kind of kiss that involves both of us throwing our whole beings behind it. This is it. My essence. Her essence. We are one.
I plunder her mouth, scraping my teeth over her lips, and she responds by locking one shapely leg around my hips. She wriggles against my aching erection, which might now be the size of an actual T-Rex. I need to lose the jeans.
“Lose the jeans,” Luna rasps, reading my mind. “Please. Dear god. Lose them.”
“Permanently?’
She smiles up at me, her eyes heavy, her pupils blown, and a delicate flush of pink on her cheeks and neck. “That wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world.”
I make quick work of the jeans, which involves leaping up, shoving them down my hips, then doing a duck and roll when I very nearly topple to the floor. Luna giggles like I’m being a clumsy clown on purpose, and it’s all an act. I’ll let her go with that. I won’t correct her.
As soon as I get my jeans and boxers off, Luna’s eyes widen like she’s forgotten what I look like. Her eyes feast on me, take me in, and eat me up. It’s so entirely glorious that I nearly fall over a second time.
“Come. Here,” she rasps. “Now.”
I need this. That’s what she’s really saying. I need you, skin on skin. My body covering hers, hers wrapped around mine and welcoming me inside, and mine fitting us together. This is a dance that used to be familiar, and I don’t ever want it to be unfamiliar. I want this. I want her. God, I want her with every fiber of my being and then some. With the fibers that might extend on into other unknown dimensions.