Poison Rose (Sequel to "Good Love")

Nineteen

The whole Time that Bobby and Andy were talking down in the great room, Duff and Aerin were upstairs in the guest room he always moved to when he wanted alone Time with her, definitely having themselves nothin' but a good Time. He hadn't been able–or wanted–to hold back any longer by the Time he got her up there, so he hadn't bothered with trying. Luckily for him, his young fiancé was seemingly just as desperate as he was, although he wasn't sure if that was 'cuz she was so in Love, or if she'd abstained the last few Days with Bobby so she'd actually have a good Time with him while he was in Town.

        Duff'd started out simply by dragging her against him as he kicked the guest room door shut gently enough to avoid disturbing his wife across the hall, but hard enough that it'd actually latch. With her soft, warm curves pulled flush against him, he hadn't been able to resist starting to grind on her, even before he'd turned them around so she was pressed against the door.

        Aerin hadn't minded that in the slightest, judging by the way she sighed and mewled almost like a kitten as he started attacking her hot spots vigorously. The Sounds she made as he riled her up were like Music to his ears, and the blonde bassist was sure her husband felt the same way. Not only that, but they affected him almost the same way feeling her hand wrap around his crotch did–they sent what could only be called a Lightning bolt of pleasure straight to said crotch without her even touching him. It might be a bit juvenile to think about it quite like that, but he never really could think of a better way to put it that than–especially when they were getting down and dirty like they were now.

        It hadn't taken long for him to get her over to the bed, clothes flying in every possible Direction as he backed her toward said piece of furniture. Somehow or another, her bra'd wound up hanging from one of the blades of the ceiling fan, his boxers hanging off the mirror of the vanity table across from the foot of the bed. Neither of them realized it till much later, though, 'cuz they were simply that caught up in their Romantic goings-on that they didn't care at the Time they wound up like that.

        "OhmiGoddess," the young woman panted. Sprawled out on her back next to her now-fiancé, she couldn't help the goofy grin currently splitting her face.

        "Holy shit," Duff chuckled, more than a bit dazed as he tried to catch his own breath. "That was–fuck, I've no words, girl."

        "Sex magick," she veritably giggled, making him push himself onto one elbow to look at her.

        "Sex magick?" the blonde bassist repeated as he cocked a brow. "What the hell's that?"

        "The stuff that makes Bobby loopy-fied for about three Days after I hit him with it," Aerin laughed as she scooted closer to snuggle against him.

        "Well, fuck me, nekkid and running," he chuckled. "If that's what it feels like, I can't say I'd be averseta having it happen again."

        "Can't Control when I hit him–and now you–with it very well, though," the young woman told him. "I get into a certain headspace, and it just...happens."

        "Apparently, ya were in the perfect headspace for it tonight," Duff told her, wrapping his arms around her.

        "Sex magick feeds mostly off the Energy of the act in its name, but it usually starts with an overload of Romance for me," she admitted. "Once it starts, there's no stopping till that magickal orgasm explodes with the physical one."

        "Exploded, it definitely did," the blonde bassist told her with another chuckle. "Damn near felt like ya tried to kick me across the room, even though ya were holding on for all ya were worth."