Page 124 of Delirium
“I love you, Sunshine. I would do anything to make you happy.”
“You already do, you sappy fucker.” She smiled. “I didn’t need all this.”
“But I did,” I murmured, tucking her hair around her ear. “Don’t ever color your hair again.”
“Are you trying to tell me what to do, Stormy?” she asked, smiling up at me as her hands dragged over my torso, all the way to the back of my neck. “You know what happens when you try to tell me what to do.”
“I do.” I grinned. “But I think you’re going to like doing what I tell you to do when I show you the next part of the house.”
I didn’t ask, didn’t wait for her to protest as I lifted her up in my arms, taking her back inside the house, and all the way to the master bedroom that would be our bedroom.
A California king-sized bed was placed in the middle, right between the two nightstands, and on top of it what I was more nervous about than this house itself.
“What is that?” Ophelia asked as her eyes zeroed in on the leather jacket splayed over the bed. “Did you leave your jacket here?”
“Not really,” I answered, lowering her down and walking toward the bed, my hand dragging over the embroidered letters on the back of the jacket.
“Stormy, then what—” A gasp escaped her as she came closer to me and saw the letters on the back of the jacket. “Is that… is that what I think it is?”
“In motorcycle clubs, weddings, engagements and all that bullshit mean nothing. I mean, a piece of paper is just that—a piece of paper, but this…” I lifted the jacket and turned toward her. “This means forever, Sunshine. This means more than you know.”
“Storm.” She smiled shakily.
“I’m not really good with words, Sunshine. I mean, some come easily, others not so much, but I know that I love you. And I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I also know that there will be times in our future where you’ll want to stab me, and there will definitely be times where I’ll want to lock you up and prevent you from doing something crazy.” She started laughing, her eyes never wavering from mine. “But I know I’m yours, as much as you are mine. I know there will never be another for me. I don’t need to spend months or years proving it or waiting for something to happen, because I know. Right here.” I pressed a hand to my heart. “I know you’re my forever.”
I stepped closer to her, taking her hand in my free one, while holding the jacket in my other hand. “Ophelia Ekaterina Aster, my favorite pain in the ass.” She laughed again. “My beginning and my ending, would you like to be my Old Lady?”
I trembled from head to toe, waiting for her to answer. This meant more than engagement rings, a wedding and wedding bands. In our culture, being someone’s Old Lady surpassed the silly papers signed in front of witnesses. It surpassed the “I dos” and white wedding dresses.
This meant forever, and she was the only person I would want to grow old with.
“Yes.” She smiled brightly, crying, her face getting redder with every second. “There’s nothing I would want more.”
I couldn’t wait another second.
Throwing the jacket on the bed, I pushed my fingers through her hair, claiming her lips with mine, taking, owning, giving, showing her how much I loved her.
Our teeth clashed, our tongues fought for dominance, playing my favorite game, and before long, her hands grabbed the hem of my T-shirt, pulling it up, dragging it over my torso. I stepped back, pushing it over my head and dropping it on the floor. My pants followed shortly after, along with the sweater she wore, and the yoga pants I wanted to tear off of her body.
She stood in front of me only in a bra and black, lace panties, her round stomach the first place my hands landed on.
“You’re mine, Sunshine,” I growled. “Forever, mine.”
“Yours,” she purred, dragging her tiny nails over my abs, all the way to my underwear. She bit down on her lower lip, looking between us, at my aching cock. Her hand disappeared under the cotton material, fisting my cock at the base, earning a grunt from me. “I was always yours, Storm,” she moaned as I pushed the cups of her bra down, letting her boobs spill over the material.
I loved her body before, every single thing about her, but since she became pregnant… God, watching her body change, adjusting to our kids, it was the best aphrodisiac. I dove, taking one puckered nipple into my mouth, drawing out the moans from her, while she writhed in my arms, dragging her hands over my dick.
She pushed my underwear down as I unclasped her bra, letting it fall on the floor as I took a step away from her, pushing my boxers all the way to the floor.
The fire in her eyes fed my own, licking over my skin, drinking me in from head to toe, ending at my dick. In a haze of lust, I lifted her in my arms and deposited her on the bed, right next to her jacket. She moved backward until her back hit the headboard, those skimpy little panties still blocking my view.
“These will have to go,” I grunted, dragging my hands over her legs. Peppering kisses over her calves, to her knees while she writhed, moaning and urging me to go on, I dragged the hem of her panties down, exposing her to me. “There’s my girl,” I murmured, reaching her center with my mouth, blowing slowly over her clit.
“Stoooorm,” she moaned, dripping for me. Her thighs were soaked in her juices, already ready for me and what I had planned.
With two hands, I tore off the panties from her body, while she laughed at me and my impatience, but as I looked up at her, I could see the darkness of her dilated irises, the need flashing brightly at me.
I dove, hungry for her taste, for the cries that erupted from her every time I ate her pussy, and licked through her folds slowly, torturously slow, and she didn’t mind telling me as much.
