Her back arches, and a satisfied cry erupts from her throat as she shatters. Her entire body trembles from the force of it, and the sight of her lost in pleasure is the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
I let myself go, desperate to join her. My hand flies over my cock, the tension at the base of my spine coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snaps, a rubber band stretched beyond its limits.
“Fuck, Ava—”
The orgasm rips through me, my entire body shuddering as I spray hot cum across her chest. Rope after rope lands on her breasts, and she watches with wide-eyed delight, seemingly transfixed by the mess I’ve made.
“You look like a goddess wearing my necklace,” I rasp, stroking myself through the aftershocks.
She looks up at me from under her lashes and gives me a demure smile as she spreads my cum all over her breasts.
Un-fucking-believable.
This woman is un-fucking-believable, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I cup her face and kiss her, hard and deep. My tongue sweeps into her mouth, and she responds with equal fervor, her messy hands coming up to grip my shoulders.
I can’t lose this. Can’t lose her.
I want to celebrate every birthday, every milestone, every boring Monday night with Ava.
The realization hits me like a body blow, and I pour everything I’m feeling into the kiss. Devotion. Longing. The desperate need to make her understand that what we have is real.
When we finally come up for air, I rest my forehead against hers. “Stay put.”
I head to the bathroom and return with a warm washcloth. I take my time, gently cleaning every precious inch of her, and when I’m done, I lean down and plant a tender kiss on each perfect breast.
Ava sighs and runs her fingers through my hair, her nails scraping deliciously over my scalp. “Best birthday ever.”
Pride floods my chest, and I straighten. “How about some cake?”
Her eyes light up. “We can have cake in bed?”
I chuckle. “Birthday rules. You want cake in bed, you get cake in bed.”
Hell, she can have cake in bed every day if it makes her happy.
She grins. “Yes, please.”
I jog downstairs and grab the cake, along with a plate, utensils, and a lighter I find in the kitchen drawer. When I return, Ava’s pulled the sheet up to cover herself. She looks sleepy, sated, and absolutely stunning.
I set the cake on the nightstand and light the single white candle. “Make a wish, birthday girl.”
She closes her eyes, a smile playing across her lips, and blows out the flame.
“What did you wish for?” I ask as I cut a generous slice of cake for us to share.
“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” she replies in a singsong voice.
I shoot her a dark look. “Now who’s superstitious?”
She laughs as I transfer the cake to a plate and climb into bed beside her.
“That looks really good.” She curls up next to me, resting her hand on my biceps. “Thank you for making me a birthday cake. I know it couldn’t have been easy with your schedule.”
“Darlin’, I will always make time for you.” I scoop up a forkful of cake and raise it to her lips. “Now be a good girl and open wide.”
“I can feed myself,” she protests, amusement dancing in her eyes.