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into me.
    “Mr. Asanti Styles,” I moaned as I received him.
    Asanti made me his. All his. And at that moment there was nothing more that I wanted to be.
    We two had become one.
     
    Hours later we woke only to find that we were still lying on the floor. The breakfast that had the room smelling so good a while ago was now just a faint memory. I smiled up at him. He smiled down at me.
    “Are you ready to go?”
    “Go where?” I replied curiously.
    “Shopping.”
    “Shopping?”
    “My love,” he began tenderly, “unless you plan on walking around in this Vegas heat with that coat on another day, I have to take you shopping.”
    “Then shopping it is,” I told him as I smiled and lifted my head to meet his lips with mine.
    My new husband was quick to lift me and carry me to the bathroom where he bathed me for second time in three days, right before he made love to me again. Repeatedly, for more than two hours.  
     
    We finally made it out of the hotel at four that evening and it was almost impossible to leave then. Every muscle in my body was sore but I loved it. It was a soreness that could only come from exhaustive love making and we had done nothing but make love. In the kitchen of the suite. In the dining room of the suite. On the balcony of the suite. In the living room of the suite. In the bathroom of the suite. On the balcony of the suite . On the balcony of the suite . And definitely let us not forget the bedroom of the suite.
    We christened every room in that penthouse. Every single, solitary nook and cranny of each room.  We made love repeatedly. Like two horny teenagers that just couldn’t get enough. Insatiable. That was us. And I’ll be damned if it didn’t feel good. 
    Finally, after fighting like hell to stop making love and leave the room, we stormed the streets of Vegas. I was a little uncomfortable with my attire at first, feeling nervous, but after getting a look of some of the other tourists, I began to feel right at home in my coat and clear heels. No one stared at me, no one gave me any funny looks for wearing a coat when it was sweltering outside. And no one seemed to give a damn when Asanti pulled me to him, leaned me back against a wall and kissed me deep, while secretly fingering me under that coat in the middle of Las Vegas Strip.
    It was all I could do not to erupt right there on the sidewalk but I didn’t. I gently told him that I was on the verge of heat stroke in that get up and that, and only that , snapped him out of his sexual trance and got him to get me to an expensive boutique quickly. 
    When Asanti said he was taking me shopping, I didn’t know he meant that he was taking me SHOPPING ! For the longest time my spouse took me to any and every store my heart desired. He bought me outfit after outfit. Purses, shoes, accessories, perfumes. You name it, he bought it. And all for me.
    No dollar amount was too much. No price tag was out of the question. If I so much as looked at it and he thought I wanted it, it was mine. Asanti made me feel like his princess. Like I was in a fairytale and he was my knight in shining armor. My smile couldn’t have been brighter and the look that I saw constantly present in his eyes couldn’t have been more satisfied.
    It was well after nine that night when we were finally on our way back to the hotel. Every package had been stuffed into the limo that my husband decided to hire in lieu of all of the bags we had. But the two of us chose to walk instead and enjoy one of the most famous cities in the United States, in the world for that matter.
    The time had flown by quickly, but I can honestly say I enjoyed every moment of it. I was so wrapped up in him, in us, in the infinite power he seemed to have over me that everything felt like a wild dream. Like I was having a weird out of body experience, an experience that I would loathe to forget. I was truly in heaven.
    When we made it back to the suite I was tired. Exhausted even. But Asanti had