Page 137 of Inked in Bloom
“The signs will be pretty clear,” I say, though the words are thick as molasses. Soon after, the grip on my cock twists one final time, and my body detonates. Pride sweepsthrough me. I’ve given my mate every bit of my pleasure, drawn out hours and hours of hers. Monroe’s gasp is the last sound I hear before my head thumps against the floor, my vision goes dark, and the world falls away...
When my eyes flutter open,the tip of Monroe’s nose is pressed against mine. Her mint brows draw together. “I screamed for help, worried something was wrong with you, only to be laughed at by Roxy. You could have warned me.”
“How long was I out for?” I push up onto my elbows.
“A few seconds.” Her eyes widen and she grips my chest. “But is that going to happen every time we have sex?”
“I fucking hope so.” I sigh and flex my muscles so my cock jerks inside her.
“Oh my God, Briar.” Her tone is exasperated, but I don’t miss the sweet scent of her desire filling the air. “You passed out.”
Smiling, I cradle her cheek. “Worth it.”
In one smooth motion, I roll us so I’m on top of her and slowly pull out. Pearlescent fluid seeps from her, and we both watch it pool on the blanket beneath us.
“I can’t believe that was all inside me,” she says, eyes wide.
“I can’t wait to do it all over again. At home.” I help her stand, admiring the way the remnants of our claiming streak down her thighs, mingling with the paint, as I follow her out of the tent.
The bacchanal has slowed. Most Blooms have reached the point of napping, hydrating, or lazily fucking around The Nestling Fields. We head to our flower bed and removeour canvas from the soil. Looming above us are several rich-purple foxgloves, each bell the size of a toddler. Wrapped around it, a peony’s layers of petals extend from its center creating a large circle of shade. In the beds surrounding us, life-size signature blossoms are displayed, living monuments commemorating today’s newly mated Blooms. I’m already counting down the days until I can bring my mate back here and make love to her under our shade.
“I couldn’t have asked for a more incredible bonding,” I tell her, wanting her to understand how much tonight means to me. The claiming ceremony has always been a special tradition among Blooms, but I thank Fate that Monroe planned ours. Every detail reminds me of her—from the towering stack of macarons to the canvases painted in the throes of our love.
Once home, the first thing we do is hang our new work of art above our bed.
“What do you think of our new masterpiece?” I ask her, wrapping my arms around her waist.
She leans into me, nuzzling my cheek. “I love it. Though I’m partial to our first one.”
“Shall we get cleaned up?” I ask, and she nods, following me into the bathroom.
We lazily shower, getting the paint out of our hair and off each other’s bodies. As we climb into bed, Monroe glances to her nightstand, furrowing her brow at me.
“What’s this?”
“I know how much you love bedtime stories,” I say, giving her a wink. “Figured I could read you some more passages since you seemed to enjoy the ones at mic night.”
A blush stains her pink cheeks a rich shade of crimson. “I do, but what will your raving fanbase do without your open mic night readings?”
“I’ll still make some appearances to appease them.” I smirk at her. “But next time I do, you’ll be up there full of me.”
“Hmm… I suppose that could be nice,” she says coyly, though the spike of sweetness in the air gives her away. She picks up the book, flipping to where the paperback’s uneven. A small floral band slides down the page and into her lap.
“You said once you claimed me you’d wear it.”
She’s already slipping it onto her finger, a giddy gleam in her eyes. I want to see that look every day. Admiring the tiny glinting petals and moss bound in a never-ending circle, a soft smile graces her lips. “The girls and I will have to make you one.”
It falls from Monroe’s mouth so effortlessly. Like they’re already hers. Maybe they always have been—just like I have, even before either of us knew.
“I’d love that,” I say, stroking her cheek. I kiss her deeply, fold her into my arms, and turn out the light.
TWO SEASONS LATER…
54
MONROE
“Spring went by so fast.” Cherri parks her floracycle on the curb and flashes me a grin.
