Her inner walls start fluttering again and I straighten, grabbing her hips to pull her onto me. "Come for me. Now."
She shatters on command with a wail, back bowing off the bed. I follow soon after, spilling deep inside her warmth. We collapse back onto the bed, chests heaving from exertion.
I gather her close, pressing soft kisses over her face and neck. She hums contently, nuzzling into my chest.
"I love you, Florian," she whispers softly. “My own personal rockstar.”
My heart swells at the words, a brilliant smile crossing my face. I tilt her chin up, kissing her sweetly. "And I love you, my darling. Always."
We lie tangled together, our limbs heavy with satiation. Aria's head rests on my chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns through the hair dusting my abdomen.
My own hands run up and down her back in a soothing caress, relishing in the feel of her soft skin under my palms.
She's curled into me like she was made to fit there, a perfect complement to my body. Our breaths have slowed to a steady rhythm, our hearts beating in time.
There's a bone-deep contentment settling through me, a peace I've only found with her in my arms.
She tilts her head up, her eyes meeting mine. They're glowing with warmth and affection, brighter than any star. A soft smile graces her lips and I can't help but return it tenfold.
"I never want to leave this bed," she mumbles, tucking her face into the crook of my neck with a happy sigh.
"Then don't," I whisper, tightening my hold on her. "Stay here with me forever."
She laughs, the sound vibrating against my skin. "As tempting as that is, we do have lives to get back to eventually. And Dimitri and Josef might have something to say about it, too."
I groan dramatically, pulling a giggle from her. "Must you always be the voice of reason?"
"One of us has to be," she teases gently. "You can play the role of the oblivious artistic genius, and I'll help you to remember the things you need to."
"I suppose you're right," I concede with a put upon sigh. "But just know, you're always welcome in my bed. In fact, I insist on it."
She smiles, brushing a sweet kiss over my jaw. "Lucky for you, Florian, it’s one of my favorite places."
My heart swells at her words and I cradle her closer, beyond grateful for the woman in my arms.
Together, sated and content, there's nowhere else I'd rather be.
Chapter sixteen
The ocean breeze caresses my skin as I stand at the water's edge, the rhythmic crashing of the waves calling to me. This is my sanctuary, where I find solace from the violent storms that rage within the city streets.
As I stare out at the swirling blue, I'm reminded of my purpose. As co-leader of the Snakes, it's my duty to ride these waves in search of secrets that will keep us steps ahead of our enemies.
With each crest I conquer, I gather whispers and clues to maintain our power. It's a dangerous dance that I've mastered over bloodied years. Only now, more recently, have I had the chance to operate the surfing school on my own terms. The profitability has changed, as has being my own boss, but the rest is the same.
"Hey man, ready for my lesson?"
I turn to see my latest student sauntering towards me, his chest puffed out in a transparent display of bravado. His voice booms over the ocean's roar.
He’s one of those guys where everything about him is flashy. The type who always likes to pull out a hundred dollar bill or a black Amex while making sure everyone else in the room sees. Whose clothes are always brand name but you know he didn’t just pick them out by himself. Like now, for instance… hisTommy Hilfiger boardshorts with floral print scream tourist who was accosted by a pushy salesperson.
He’s the grown equivalent of a twelve-year-old motoring past you on a segway with a smirk, or maybe one of those electric skateboards. He’s the guy who wears the superbowl replica ring without having ever played football.
You know, you just want to kick them on sight.
The kid that shows up to sports practice in the top-of-the-line equipment when everyone else is wearing hand-me-downs and loaner gear, and he makes sure they know it. But this man has to be in his 50s, so he’s a walking compensation for a very small penis. I have no doubt he drives a convertible and is onto trophy wife number three or thereabouts.
They say you shouldn’t judge a book by a cover, but in this case, you one hundred percent can.