Page 75 of Serenity
Under lazy lids, she verbalized the lie. She started this shit. We for damn sure were gonna finish it.
“Is that what you want, Bee?”
While breathless and shaky, Serenity’s lowered gaze conveyed what she needed before her lips spoke, “No.”
In no time, my fingers covered her center. I pinched and rubbed her button while slowly massaging her inner walls with my dick. In no time, I felt her tighten around me. She sang my name in the sweetest, most sensual song as she came.
Undeniably, Serenity had a clutch on me. Shit was sickening. It was nothing like the love I had for Mya. Serenity’s grasp was swift and deepened with each passing day. Supreme called it the Miller effect. Whatever it was, it was authentic and intense.
In the few months we’d been together, the woman had me reconsidering marriage. Hell, I’d even reconsidered my vasectomy. If ever she changed her heart about the life we lived, I’d be ready and willing to grant her every wish. As long as it meant forever together. As long as it meant no secrets. As long as it meant that she’d share her entire world with me.
Depleted of concern for the outside world, I struggled to understand her need to keep our relationship a secret. A percentage wouldn’t suffice. I was all in. I wanted all from her, too.
Hunger hit me in the morning. Ravenous for something low-calorie but all-you-can-eat, my tastebuds made their request known. Swiftly, I located it between the legs of my sleeping beauty. Under the sheets, the harmony of peaches and the prior night’s lust danced on my nostrils. Her heat was undeniable. Even at rest, she was scorching with fire in the comfort I craved.
My famished tongue went to work, licking and lapping and sucking the fleshiest part of her petals. Her bare pussy, paired with her nectar, reminded me of peaches. Peaches and cream. So tangy and sweet. With her leg hiked over my shoulder, I held her in place. She rose from slumber, purring as my tongue livened her senses. Once alert and fully aware of my presence, she began grinding her center against the work of my tongue.
My hands worked in tandem, stirring her sweetness. Two fingers pressing against her g-spot, I summoned her end. Top and bottom, her lips sang a song featuring my name. She crooned with the tune of the birds perched on the windowsill.
Passion.
It never lacked between us. Whether in bed or fighting, the fire burned brightly. The open lines of communication and understanding carried us—shielding us from the flame of naysayers and haters. Though our age difference caused initial apprehension, it never surfaced to be a problem. At least not for me. Not until last night. My uneasiness at the fact was tucked away somewhere between my heart and head as I feasted on her buffet. It was the perfect distraction.
Time.
Time was the request.
Our whirlwind of fire could use that. Unforeseen and swift, the feelings between us were. It granted us little time to process them thoroughly. Time and emotional intelligence would wield that. Time would do us good.
Slowly, I rubbed my nose across her button of pleasure, listening to the sound of her assent to heaven. Tasting her texture and flavor. Feeling her clit jump against me. Sucking it and groaning as she erupted. She responded with trembling legs tightening around my head. A cascade of honey awarded my efforts, painting my beard and mustache. Squirting was a new level I’d unlocked.
“No more. No more. Please,” she begged with a fresh set of tears streaming down her face. Post-orgasmic release for her came in the form of happy tears, I’d learned, as a response to overwhelming pleasure.
Lethargic but satisfied, she panted, dragging lengthy nails through my head. With her gratification fulfilled, I headed for the shower to conquer what remained of my day. Serenity was hot on my heels, seeking to return the fellatio favor.
Two video conferences and several emails later, we were on the G5 plane. Our destination Cappadocia. Our passion for connection, intense conversation, and each other’s bodies were rivaled by a desire for travel. At a moment’s notice, we’d be up and away toward the next wonder of the world. Travel was one of our many love languages.
I just hoped what we’d been building would be enough to sustain us.
GÖREME, CAPPADOCIA, TURKEY
A rainbow of colors painted the sky. Competing against the endless blue of the atmosphere, the array of balloons floated.
Bucket list destination fulfilled.
And I’d done so with my favorite person. The hot air balloon ride across the city was both relaxing and fascinating. The unique landscape of Cappadocia was like something from a fantasy world. The experience of floating through the sky with the perfect view of the landscape felt like a dream. The sight of multiple colorful balloons leisurely gliding through the crisp blue sky was magical.
While a tourist hot spot, Cappadocia wasn’t crowded. The calm and collective small-town vibe was both unexpected and appreciated.
Never had I been to Turkey or Istanbul. Sharing such an experience with my man unlocked a heightened level of intimacy. Pun intended.
“Is this your first time?” I asked Duke as our balloon floated through the air.
“Yeah.”
Firsts. So many of them we’d been sharing with one another, and it filled my heart. An eruption of euphoria spilled across my face. For the two months we shared, my life overflowed with new adventures. With that awareness came immense joy. Sharing unique experiences with him was top-tier and utterly priceless.
A luxury experience, our private balloon contained a bottle of wine, two glasses, and an array of cheeses. Twenty-four hours ago, the heaviness of meaningless troubles about our age difference and secret relationship weighed against us. Now, suspended above ground, once again, we were weightless.