Then, keeping Sonia impaled on his cock, he gazed in the mirror, her hooded eyes, he noted, doing the same, as he slowly disrobed her, baring her beautiful, little body still intimately connected to his. Once she was naked against him, he took his time, running his hands along the skin of her midriff, her belly, her sides and up to her breasts as he, and Sonia, watched the trail of his hands and as he, alone, felt her sex shudder around his cock in response to their travels. And he held her, his forearms crossed, his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs idly stroking her nipples, his shaft still hard and buried to the root, as he memorized the look of them together. The smell of their mingled essence. The beautiful feel and sight of all that was her.
She twisted her neck and, with her lips against his skin, he watched in the mirror as she whispered there, “How do you stay so hard so long?”
“Sensory incentive,” he replied softly (and truthfully).
She emitted a fluttering sigh.
Then he lifted her off his shaft, turned her, seated her on the basin and lazily pulled off her boots and slid off her stockings.
Then he carried her to bed, his sweet little Sonia, took off his clothes, joined her and pulled her close, on their sides, his face in her hair, her ass snug in his crotch, his body pressed to the length of hers.
His voice was gentle when he asked, “Did you have a good night, my little one?”
“Yes,” she whispered sleepily, hesitated, then enquired, “Did you?”
“Yes,” he answered and his arms gave her a squeeze. “I liked the way it ended the best.”
“Figures,” she mumbled seconds before she fell asleep.
He should have felt contentment but these were his worst times. In the dark, Sonia near, her body relaxed in his arms. These were the times he knew he’d miss most when she was gone.
He didn’t seethe against her aging, the onset of wrinkles, her gorgeous hair turning gray.
He seethed against the knowledge that one day, she’d be gone.
As with every night since the claiming, King Callum fell asleep with his queen forced to come to uneasy terms with this vile knowledge of his future.