Page 61 of Savoring Sienna
Crone was a patient man. But even patience had its limits. The first orgasm left her trembling, her body boneless against the sheets. Crone kissed her through it, his hands gentle as he soothed her down from the high.
Then he smiled, a dark and possessive expression that caused her pulse to visibly flutter with anticipation.
“My turn.” His voice dropped into a low, commanding tone aimed at making her shiver. Before she could react, he flipped her onto her stomach, his hands gripping her hips to pull her up onto her knees. He pressed her chest down into the mattress as his body covered hers from behind.
“Crone—”
“Quiet,” he ordered, his palm coming down in a sharp smack against her ass. She yelped at the sting then bit her lip to stifle a moan. “You don’t speak unless I tell you to. Understand?”
She nodded frantically, her fingers clutching at the sheets.
“Good girl.”
A shudder of pleasure followed his praise as she yielded herself to him. He chuckled darkly, his fingers tracing the reddened skin of her ass before dipping between her thighs.
“So wet for me.” His growl trumpeted through the quiet mountain air. “Even after I’ve already had you once. Such a greedy little wife.”
She whimpered as his fingers circled her clit, her hips rocking back against his touch. He denied her, pulling away just as she neared the edge.
“Not yet,” he growled. “You don’t come until I say so.”
“Not fair,” she groaned in frustration, but the sound cut off into a sharp gulp as he thrust into her without warning. His grip on her hips was bruising, his pace relentless as he settled in a rhythm of deep, punishing strokes.
“Fuck, love,” he gritted out, his voice rough with need. “You feel incredible. So tight. So perfect…. So,mine.”
Sienna could only whimper in response, her body already coiling tight around his cock. He reached around to toggle her clit.
“Come for me, wife.” The words had barely left his lips when she shattered beneath him with a broken wail tearing from her throat as her pussy clamped down around him in a rippling pull that dragged a hoarse sound from his own chest. The velvet spasms rolled along his length in hot rhythmic waves, each one squeezing tighter than the last, wringing him so sweetly he nearly lost himself.
Crone gritted his teeth and rode her through it, his hips driving harder into her slick, fluttering heat, the wet slap of their bodies and her breathless little cries feeding the fire coiling tight at the base of his spine.
One more thrust, two, and the coil snapped. His release crashed through him in a searing rush, pulsing out of him in thick heavy spills deep inside her. A guttural groan tore from histhroat as his vision whitened at the edges. He collapsed over her with his chest heaving against the sweat-damp silk of her back and pressed hot open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her shoulder while aftershocks still shivered through him.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then, with a slow exhale, he rolled onto his side, pulling her with him so she was sprawled half over his chest.
“Finally, mine,” he murmured, tracing lazy patterns on her skin.
Sienna smiled, her heart full to bursting. “Yours,” she agreed as she pressed a tender kiss to his collarbone.
Later, wrapped in each other’s arms under the canopy of stars, Sienna stretched lazily. “I never knew it could be like this.”
“Like what, love?”
“So... complete. Like every broken piece inside me has finally found its match in you.”
His arms tightened around her. “That’s because we were made for each other. Two halves of the same whole.”
They drifted to sleep as the moon sailed overhead, their hearts beating in perfect synchronicity, their love as boundless as the star-filled sky above.
Sienna
Two months later, late October, The Hope Winery
Firelight danced across the den’s exposed wooden beams, casting warm shadows on the stone walls. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, snow-capped mountains painted the horizon in shades of purple and blue. The room was the heart of their newhome, cozy yet elegant, with plush leather furniture and richly colored rugs scattered across hardwood floors.
Sienna cradled Hope as she took her bottle, those tiny hands reaching up to pat her face. Dark eyes, so like Milly’s, gazed up with complete trust and adoration. Hope’s soft coos filled the quiet room as she drank, her little personality already shining through in every expression.
The love that filled Sienna’s heart for this precious girl defied description. Being Hope’s mother was as natural as breathing, as if this was always meant to be. She and Crone had found such joy in every special moment, and Sienna’s camera was always on hand to crystalize each one. It was how she had captured Hopes first smile, and the gorgeous photo of Crone falling asleep in the rocking chair with her on his chest after a tired midnight feeding. Her heart clenched every time her tiny fingers curled around theirs.
