CHRYSALIS

Epilogue.

August 29th, 2023.

"I know we have to go home, but I'm really not ready to leave this view." His mouth presses soft kisses to the skin between my breasts, warmed by the sun.

A moan leaves my lips as he fills me again, his thrusts are slow but hard, the thick padding on this chaise lounge is a godsend as my shoulders pour into it while my back arches.

Harry's hands move at the opportunity and slide underneath me, holding me up toward him while he kisses down my sternum and all across my torso, mumbling sweet and filthy words into my skin.

My head hangs back, neck relaxed and eyes closed as I bask in the sunlight that has tanned our skin and warmed our days for the last few weeks. Again, and again he thrusts into me, satisfying the craving my body feels whenever he's not around.

A thin layer of sweat shines from his skin as he lays me back down and lets his hands travel to my legs. His hand splays against the underside of my thigh as he ticks my knee toward my chest, allowing him to reach even deeper.

His hips move faster and I find myself wishing I could see his back, that I could watch his hips roll into me while his muscles flex and move. We're both gasping for air, our breathing shallow as pleasure has overridden every other bodily function.

He leans forward just a bit, angling his hips up so that they hit the right spot. Small moans are leaving his mouth now, his brow is furrowed in concentration and I know he's so close.

"You feel so good, H. You make me feel so good." My hand grips his arm tightly, small marks from my nails embedding into his skin.

He moans loudly as I tighten myself around him and then he peppers the inside of the thigh he's holding with soft kisses and small nibbles that feel incredible. "Sei fatta per me, Tesoro."

God, he's so fucking hot.

"The Italian is not fair!" I yelp through a blissed-out smile as I feel the heat start to take over my body. My toes curl, my chest heaves, my mouth falls open and my ears start to ring, drowning out the sound of the ocean and cars below the balcony that we're on.

He lets my leg down around his hips and lays over my body, burying his face in my neck while his thrusts get more sporadic and his breathing shallows.

"So beautiful," he mutters into me.

"All mine," He gasps underneath my ear.

"My beautiful... fucking...wife." Those last three thrusts finish him off and within just a few moments he's resting his body on top of mine. He moves to the side a bit so that I can breathe and his fingers gently brush through the tangled strands of my hair.

"If the Italian was unfair, the wife bit is definitely cheating." My eyes are closed, his nose is pressed against my temple, and the waves are crashing against the cliffs below us.

"Been waiting a long time to call you that, don't plan on shuttin' up about it anytime soon."

"Mmm, please don't." I turn toward him and pucker my lips, waiting for kisses that he's happy to deliver.

"Do you think we can get away with fucking outside at home?" He asks.

I respond through my fits of laughter, "In Malibu!? Or Manhattan? Both of those are a no. How about London? I'm sure the whole street would love that view."

"Ugh, American prudes and prying eyes...suppose we'll just have to come back here more often. You just look like an angel when you fall apart for me all drenched in sunshine."

"Yeah? You should write a song about it, I bet you'd get another Grammy. You'd definitely get lots of head."

He fakes a gasp and pulls his body off mine, stretching in the sun like a naked greek god. "Am I nothing but a sex object to you, Josephine?"