Julian
"Ride me hard, baby."
With a loud cry, Chris impaled himself on my cock. He sank down steadily until he'd taken me fully inside him, the both of us moaning when his ass landed against my pelvis.
"Fuck, Julian," he groaned. "I swear you feel bigger than last time."
"You mean three days ago?" My teasing laugh turned into something closer resembling a growl as he clenched his tight muscle around me. "Mmm, you feel fucking amazing, Christopher."
He rose up, holding onto the couch behind me for leverage, then fell back down on me with a deep groan. I held his hips as he did, matching his pleasured moans with my own. He closed his eyes and let his head loll backwards, exposing his neck to me; I pressed my lips to the sensitive flesh, kissing, nipping, and sucking. I could feel his engorged, leaking cock between us, making sticky designs on our stomachs as he slid against me.
"You look so damn hot," I murmured as I nibbled along his collar bone.
He rolled his head to look at me with a lusty simper. "You're not too bad yourself."
Not the most flattering compliment.
"I thought you were the nice one," I goaded him as I brought my lips to his nipple and bit down on it - not the easiest task, with the way he was bouncing over me. He rewarded me with a sharp sigh at the sensation, and grew even more energetic in how he moved up and down over me. Of course, as only could be expected of him, he also became louder as he lost himself in passion. He lowered his face again to meet mine - a kiss, of all tongues, messy and untroubled. My hands wandered to cup his ass, clutching him callously, and digging my fingers into him. His answering noisiness was signal of his appreciation for my rough handling.
"God, Jules," he gasped as my hand slipped between us to grasp his throbbing hardness. "I have to -
ooh
- I'm going to come, babe."
His head dropped into the crook of my neck, and moaned loudly as he got closer to erupting. He gave little pants, grinding down on me feverishly, and suckling my skin. A shudder; a grunt; a whimper of my name; and a shot of creamy white hit my chin. His hot channel constricted around me as he climaxed, still faithfully moving over me until I stilled him and joined my pleasured groans with his, filling him with the proof of our tryst. I dug my nails into his ass, and he marked me his teeth as we held onto each other, both riding out our orgasms and hissing the other's name.
As the last jet of his milky slickness escaped him, Chris sagged onto me with a heavy sigh. He placed small kisses below my ear between harsh breaths; I laid returning ones on the side of his neck, while massaging my fingers along his spine in a gently soothing gesture. We clung to one another in silence, but for our breathing and the occasional sound of our lips moving together.
He was the first to move, climbing off me with a groan and a lazy twitch of his lips. I watched him as he stalked off to the restroom, a satisfied smirk creeping onto my face as I saw a silvery trail running down his leg. I heard the sound of flowing water, and knew he was letting it warm up before he would return to me with a damp towel to clean up.
I reflected on our night while I waited for him - quite a night, indeed. It had been four months and a day since the wedding - or exactly four months since our first date, at the zoo. An anniverary of sorts. We hadn't talked about it, and I was almost positive he hadn't noticed; it really was ridiculous of me, I knew it, because what was four months? Nothing at all, barely a third of a year, but still...it felt like I'd known Chris for years, or ever. I had never been the sentimental type, but that's exactly what I turned into with him; and for him, I wanted to do something special, even if it was small and insignificant and he was completely unaware of it. Though I didn't acknowledge the date in so many words, I did in the way I kissed him just a little bit longer when he opened the door to me, and made him his favorite dinner while insisting he sit on the couch to watch his choice of superhero movie (even if I thought they were all essentially the same).
The sound of bare feet padding on the wooden floor announced his entry. Our eyes met, his smiling as ever and fascinating as the ocean - if not matching its color, then surely rivalling its deepness. As he approached me, I pulled his face down to mine for a kiss I hoped would take his breath away. When we parted, his droopy-eyed expression informed me that I had succeeded in my intention.
"I love you, my beautiful, wonderful man," I crooned.
He rolled his eyes gave me a peck on my cheek. "You can be so mushy sometimes."
"Would you rather I ignore you but for when I feel like having sex," I questioned him idly as he wiped my chest with the towel.
He responded with a snort. "Considering you
always
feel like having sex, I wouldn't be lonely for more than fifteen minutes at a time."
I smiled at his dismissive words - because behind them were his shining eyes, his upturned lips, and loving gestures. I took the towel from his hand, tossed it onto the coffee table, and tugged him onto the couch with me. His legs rested on mine, and he slung an arm around my neck.
"You're so mean to me," I lamented with mock-offense.
He kissed along my jaw. "I know, I'm just awful." Another handful of kisses, and he pulled away with a sly look in his eyes. "I'll be right back; wait here a minute."
He hopped off the couch and ran to his bedroom, then was back a beat later. He sat next to me, keeping a careful distance, and placed a small gift box beside me.
"Here," he nudged it towards me.
I raised an eyebrow at him. "Why'd you get me a present?"
He bit his lower lip and shrugged, but his rich caramel eyes would never learn to lie. They were saying:
'Yes, Julian, I got you a present. Because I'm silly and sentimental - just like you. Now shut up and open it.'
As I went to pick it up, he blocked me with his hand. "Just...don't freak out, okay?"
I had to quell the panic that suddenly rose up my throat. "Okay, fine. Can I open it?"
He nodded and handed me the box. I lifted the lid, and looked at him with a grin.
"A key?" I took it out of the box, noting its paw-print motif.
"Before you say anything else, please don't go crazy. I'm not clearing out half of my closet and asking you to move in, I just want you to be able to come over whenever you want. Not that you don't already, obviously, I just- I mean, that way you don't have to wait for me to answer the door all the time. Not that I mind or anything, it's not like I sit angrily on the couch waiting for you. You--"
"Babe, babe, calm down," I cut off his nervous babbling with an unintentional laugh. I took hold of his hands and kissed them both. "Don't look so nervous."
He arranged his facial features into a weak smile. "Do you like it?"
"I love it, Chris. Thank you."
His enthusiasm bubbled back up to the surface - though, truly, it was never very far away. "Really? I'm not being too...overbearing?"
"Not at all, love. Come here."
I closed the distance he'd put between us, pulling him on top of me so he was sitting on my lap. He needed no directing, and promptly brought his lips upon mine to give me a kiss that had my heart beating frantically in a matter of seconds. He tangled his fingers in my hair - always, his fingers in my hair - to fasten my face to his until he was satisfied and pulled away with a sigh and a dazzling beam.
"Love you, too, Jules," he whispered. "
My
beautiful, wonderful man."
"A little belated, but I'll take it," I teased him.
He stuck his tongue out at me. "You're such a smart ass." Then, he put on his shy smile. "Thank you, though, for taking everything so smoothly. I know I'm easily excited...but that's really your fault, because you make me feel this way. If you were an asshole, I'd never be this excitable."
"In point of fact, love, your excitability is one of my favorite things about you. Well, that and maybe this," I squeezed his ass. "Or definitely this," I grasped a choice part of his anatomy. "I am rather fond of these," I traced the outline of his lips. "But these are really quite lovely," I tapped beside his twinkling eyes. "Actually, now that I think about it, I might love everything about you."
"How the hell do you do that," he murmured. "How can you think of the most perfect things to say?"
"You know how far that is from the truth. But I appreciate your selective memory."
