FLYING | Sequel of FALLEN (NaNoWriMo 2022 WINNER)

39.

His fingers trail my body like he is mapping his way to his destiny. He has been loving me with all he has until it wasn't physically possible for him to do so for all afternoon. We snooped out of the bathroom to continue our love making in the bedroom. We haven't left it since. Not even for dinner.

"I don't ever want to leave this bed." He murmurs against my skin, trailing his lips in lazy kisses from neck to my torso.

"We'll have to eventually." I respond as I entwine my fingers in his hair, caressing his scalp.

"Do you realise how heavenly it will be to live together. We could do this all the time. Eat when we want, fuck wherever and whenever we want, walk around naked so that I can touch you, please you, taste you."

"That does sound heavenly. Why don't you show me just how you would taste me?" I ask him and push his head down to my core.

The smirk widens on his lips, but he kisses my navel instead. I raise my head to look at him, devious eyes looking back. He trails his lips on my inner thigh, until I press his head where I desire him most.

"Insatiable."

"You love it. You force your cock down my throat, return the favour."

"Such nasty words, from such a beautiful mouth."

"All I hear is your mouth not going to work."

I roll my head back at the first swipe of his tongue on my sensitive skin. My hips twitch to meet him as soon as his tongue leaves me. The high builds back so quickly, I'm fully grinding his face.

"Oh Lord!" I whimper, my hands grasping blindly the sheets beside me.

"Don't preach Him, my love. Preach me."

He rises my hips more comfortably against his mouth, and devours me like a predator to a prey. I barely have the time to arch my back that my release sparks shivers from my toes to the roots of my hair. I hold my breath to let it last exponentially longer. I tug on Mace's hair when my core gets too sensitive, and finally gasp for air.

He licks his lips and crawls back up on top of me. His mouth collides with mine and trails to my ear.

"Next time, you'll ride my face."

I melt from the inside to his words. It sounds like the most sinful act we have yet to do, and I drip at the thought of doing it.

He gives me a last peck and rises from the bed to walk farther in the room.

"Where are you going?" I question him, panicking at the idea that our fun time is over.

"I'm just going to my things, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

"Better not, I'm not done with you."

"If I let you come one more time, you'll faint."

"I'm not even sleepy."

"Tell that to your face. I want you awake for the next part."

"What part? You're going to fuck me again?"

"Eventually. First, I must do something I had planned to do on your birthday." He comes back to bed with a squared box in his hands. He sits next to me, and wraps our bare bodies with the bedsheet.

"Don't say that, I haven't even shopped for your gift yet." I roll my eyes in desperation. I feel guilty not having a gift for him. I was too mad to think about it at all.

"You're my gift, Grace. Just as I am yours. Happy birthday."

With these words, the squared box opens to reveal an engagement ring. I look at it blindly, processing the fact that he had it with him on tour. That he wanted to propose to me the day he left me alone in Boston. That asking me to marry him the other night wasn't a spur of the moment thing. No. He had thought this through. He had planned this.