31. Natty
THIRTY-ONE
NATTY
PRESENT DAY
It was late when I woke, hearing Silas reading.
It had been three days since he carried me to his truck, tucked me into the passenger seat and drove us home. I was drunk, completely hammered, but had fallen asleep the second we arrived home.
The next day, I unpacked all my things and managed to fall in love with Silas in completely new ways. Like seeing him build me a new shelf. Hearing him talk to the deer that would walk into our yard, watching him grow into this profession that he now held, and seemed to love. I had always assumed Silas would miss the war brewing in his blood, but peace seemed to suit him better than battle.
I loved him for standing with me in the kitchen while I baked. Silas would eventually move further into the room, and stand next to me, while he helped me cook. I loved the walks we took together in the evenings.
Tonight was such a quiet one, that I’d fallen asleep early.
That deep, soothing timbre that pulled me from sleep, started again, making me look over at what he was reading. He had a notebook open, his handwriting staining the white sheets of paper.
This was something he used to do with me, back when he’d return home to me. We’d talk, cry, fight and then we’d cuddle, and in the middle of the night, he’d read his poetry to me. It was the only poetry I could ever listen to and be at total peace. I knew he grew up reading various poems, some were long and beautiful, others short and powerful like the point of a sword. Sasha had him reading anything and everything, but when he was ten, he had started writing them himself. As he grew, they seemed to grow talons and feathers.
Each word could pierce and make me feel like I was flying, all at once. As his mouth moved, I lowered my lashes, so he didn’t stop reading.
“Once upon a time the sun was the brightest it had ever been. It looked down through the sky, and on the land below, searching for something of its equal. The ocean had depths and darkness to it that even the sun’s rays could not reach. The desert sands loved to bask in the sun’s glow, greedy and boastful of its heat. The trees would die from too much exposure. Everywhere the sun tried, she was either too much or not enough. She began to cry, sending solar storms to the land below and disrupting all the peace she’d previously found. The ocean roiled, the trees burned, and the deserts turned to glass. Nothing could soothe the sun, not until from under the surface of the vast land rose a great darkness. A vast shadow that was not deterred by the raging or the turmoil, and bravely asked the sun what was wrong. The sun stopped crying, its tears of fire holding off long enough that the land below eventually healed itself, for as curious as the shadow was, it did not anticipate the feeling of utter completion when it finally rose and found the sun. For the darkness had craved the light and warmth, and likewise, the sun had finally found a place that could absorb her shine. So the darkness fell in love with the sun, and for as long as the two held each other, sharing the sky, the land was prosperous.”
I listened, feeling my chest begin to expand with a new sensation of pride and love. He was so talented, and I had no clue if he was even remotely aware.
“But someone else was watching too. The first man to ever walk the earth.”
Silas turned a page while playing with a rogue curl of mine.
“He emerged from the distress the sun’s tears put on the land. He came up through the crevices of darkness; pieces of glass and the deepest, inky blue of the ocean made up his heart. Verdant trees became his home, the vast galaxy of stars, his canopy and his great love was the sun. He watched as the darkness lived in the sky, surrounding their great land together in harmony. In complete surrender to one another. The man became jealous.”
The story stretched long enough to span an entire book. Man finds a way to capture the darkness and subdue it long enough to steal the sun right from the sky and lock her in a cage. All in the name of love. The darkness wakes hundreds of years later and realizes his love is still in chains, so he slays every star from the sky and blankets all of space in complete blackness. So dark, nothing on land below survives, and when the man realizes he too will not survive, he finally releases the sun.
I realized Silas stopped reading, so I brushed my hand over his abdomen.
“Don’t stop.”
He turned his head, lowering the notebook.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
My hand drifted lower. “You never do. I love it though, getting to wake up to some epic love story.”
Dark brows furrowed as my husband frowned and stared off at the wall. “It’s our story, Caelum…but I’m not…I shouldn’t have dug into it this soon to everything…”
“Then live out a different part of it.” My hand slid under the band of his boxers and passed over his soft length, jutting to the side of his leg, stretching the fabric. He was ridiculous if he was stretching the material while soft. He’d probably burst through it hulk style if he got hard while it tried to contain him.
“Why are you giggling?” he asked with a slight smirk.
My hand squeezed around him, making him hiss.
“Because you’re massive.”
His hand wound through my hair as my lips found his ribs and I moved closer to his waist.
“You think I’m big? Better show me what you’re talking about. ”
I licked along his muscles and six pack, pushing the covers down as I released him from the confines of his underwear.
“Definitely too big,” he mused. “I bet you can’t even fit it inside your mouth.”
I scoffed. “You know that I can.”
“Better prove it then.”
Rising up on my elbows, I spit on the head of his erection and began rubbing my hand up and down his veiny shaft. My eyes flicked up to take in my husband’s expression, and let out a tiny moan as he lifted his hips. He was already weeping at the tip, and when I ran my tongue over it, his hands found their way into my hair, pulling tight.
Lowering my mouth, I slipped his length inside my mouth, letting the bulbous tip slide over my tongue. I continued moving down until it hit the back of my throat and I started to gag around the thickness filling my mouth.
“Oh fuck.” Silas gasped.
I hollowed my cheeks and sucked before releasing him. Once he was out of my mouth, I licked down the side, while cupping his balls. Giving them a gentle squeeze, I wrapped my hand around the base of him, gently pulling him, so my tongue was out, and his cock was being bounced against it.
“I’m going to fuck your throat, Natty. Stop playing unless you’re prepared to whisper all day tomorrow.”
Arousal pulsed deep in my belly, making me rub my thighs together as I took him deeper this time, sucking and licking until I choked. When I let up again, spit clung to my chin and lips as I took him again and again, and he began rocking his hips, pushing his cock down my throat.
Silas moved, so he was on his knees, and I dropped so my palms were on the bed. My eyes locked on his as he gathered my hair in his hand and then let loose.
“Keep that jaw wide, beautiful, bout to fucking ruin your throat.”
This was what I had missed. This feral, unhinged version of him that didn’t look at me like a broken, lost piece of himself, but someone he desired and loved.
I opened wider for him, sticking my tongue out, while taking his cock and allowing him to bury himself into my warm mouth. He hit the back of my throat over and over, my hair hard within his grasp, and then he froze.
“Shit. Fuck. Motherfucking shit.” He rocked ruthlessly into me as he lost himself and then warmth hit my throat as he found his release.
“Swallow what you do to me. Take every last fucking drop.” His hand was on my jaw; the root of him remained visible because there was no way I could take in all of him. The tip of his cock remained lodged in my throat as he emptied himself and shuddered through his release.
He pulled himself free while trying to catch his breath.
I rose up on my knees, dragging my finger up from my navel to my breasts and circling my nipples.
My husband grabbed my jaw and pulled me into a scorching kiss.
His tongue slipped into my mouth, surely tasting the remnants of his pleasure.
“I forgot how addictive it was to fill your belly with my cum. I think you need a little more, Wife.”
With one last lick along my throat, he lowered his grip to my hips and shifted me so my face was shoved into the blankets. His arm came around my hips, lifting me so my ass was up and his tongue was slowly prying my pussy open, tasting what he’d done to me.
“You taste like you need to come.”
I moaned my response while reaching back to hold my ass cheeks wide for him to access my pussy easier.
I knew him well enough that he’d go for my asshole as well.
Sure enough, he groaned happily while lapping at the tight bundle of nerves there at the apex of my butt, then slowly licked along the seam of my crack until he was plunging into my cunt.
His arms were around my thighs, holding me so that I wouldn’t fall forward while he fucked me with his mouth.
“Silas,” I moaned, nearly crying from how good it felt to have his tongue slide along my clit, back and forth while pulling it into his mouth in a firm sucking motion. He was slow, methodical, and it was making me insane.
My hips rocked against his face, my pussy soaked, dripping down my thighs as he held me firm and continued to lap at my wetness, murmuring filthy things about how good it was. How I tasted perfect and how badly he wanted to fuck me.
Finally, he released his hold on me, which had me falling forward.
His mouth was gone, and he was hovering above me, over my back as the head of his cock slid against my soaked slit.
“Ready to fill you. You ready?” he rasped, pressing a kiss to my spine.
I needed friction, desperately.
“Yes.”
He shoved forward, pushing his granite erection inside me with one push. I let out a cry of pleasure as he hit my G-spot in one go, then he retracted, pulling out to play with me.
“Silas!”
He thrust back inside me, and this time, he set a pace that allowed me to feel everything as he moved. My hips were pulled back, my arm was too, my hand pinned to my hip as he took me deeper.
Our mingling gasps and grunts filled the room right alongside the soundtrack of our slapping skin. He fucked me until I was coming so hard, he muttered there was a ring of cream around his cock. Still, he continued to fuck me. I was sweaty, but I felt so good it was difficult to comprehend ever stopping at all until he was spilling deep inside me once again with a deep, guttural groan.
We were both sweaty, breathing hard and collapsing to the bed, but as he pulled me into his arms again, I had a feeling this was going to be a long night that sleep wouldn’t dare interrupt.
For the next week, I fell into a familiar rhythm where Silas and I would wake up together and eat breakfast. All the windows in the cottage were open, so the smell from the orchards flowed through our home, and it settled that tiny ball of nerves that liked to tighten up on occasion, that doubted this was real.
I baked every morning, but this particular morning, I found my black apron modified .
There across the chest, were the words, “Property of The Roman.”
My gaze snapped up, seeing my husband standing in the doorway, smirking at me.
“Did you think that name would be retired, just because I am?”
“Sorta.” I laughed, smoothing my hands over the stitched words, loving how it made me feel to wear it. With Silas no longer in a motorcycle club, I had no reason to wear my patch anymore. This was a nice memento he’d created for me that I secretly loved.
He shoved off the wall and made his way toward me.
“Do you remember what I said I’d do to you when I made it?”
Excitement fluttered in my chest, working its way down my body.
“You promised to fuck me in it.”
His dark brow rose. “No you promised to fuck me in it.”
My head was shaking as his hands gripped my hips, and he lifted.
“Yeah, the moment you put it on, you made a nonverbal commitment to lift that dress, and slide that pussy over my cock.”
Heat pooled between my legs as Silas marked my neck with open-mouthed kisses, and while he moved me to the counter, and then we made our way to the floor, I couldn’t stop smiling. A new way I’d fallen in love with my husband was seeing all the different ways he craved me while we existed together. Doing the very thing we always dreamed we’d do.
Hiking my dress up, I straddled his hips, seeing he had already pushed the band of his boxers down. His erection was gripped in his fist while he stroked up and down, waiting for me to slide down. This position was still a process to adjust to him, so I let out a tiny breath as I lined myself up. Letting the tip of him carefully press through my slick entrance, he shifted his hips up, so that I took more of him.
My mouth parted as he filled me, and then his ghost-like gaze was on the words covering my chest. He reached up, slipped the straps of my dress down, so that under the apron, the tops of my breasts pushed against the black material.
“Fuck me, Caelum,” he rasped, gripping my hips.
I smiled down at him and rocked forward while pushing my hands to my hair, lifting the heavy weight off my shoulders while Silas set the rhythm of how we moved .
Sunlight poured in over the counters and soaked up the floorboards. Tiny dust motes danced in the air, as I rocked over my husband’s cock. I took him, letting him lift me, and slam me down against him, all while I absorbed the moment of peace and the sense of joy that had finally found a place inside my soul.
There on the floor of the cottage I always dreamed of living in, I fucked my husband while wearing the remnants of his property patch. Relishing that from now on, the only person who had his loyalty was me, and the home he’d ever return to again would be ours.