Read Peaches Monroe: The Return of Ursula (Short Story) for Free Online Page B

and smiling again.
    I looked down at his beautiful chest—the chest that upstaged everyone on the show whenever he had a shirtless scene. I ran my finger down the center line of his muscles.
    He was hard between my legs, poised at my entrance, but not going in yet. He was waiting for something.
    I whispered, “When you were acting today, I really did feel it.”
    He moved over to harden my other nipple with his tongue. “Like you feel this?” He closed his lips over my breast and sucked my sensitive flesh in his hot mouth.
    I groaned and writhed in pleasure underneath him.
    He moved up again, shifting himself over me. While he gazed into my eyes, he nudged in between my legs, parted my flesh, and slid into me. I gasped at the fullness.
    We were still two people, but now we were joined.
    I ran my hands up and down his muscular back, then gripped his butt and urged him deeper into me.
    I pressed my lips into his. His body went hard and he pushed into me with urgency.
    Pleasure radiated from our connection, and I bent my legs and lifted my knees to let him deeper. I told him with my kisses that I felt his love.
    I told him with my body that I was his. We rolled over, and he knew that he was mine. Just before I reached my peak, he bucked and used his gorgeous muscles to toss me onto my back once more.
    He kissed my neck, slowed down his thrusting to almost imperceptible movements, and held me tight. He barely rocked inside me, and his whole body was like one hard muscle.
    My aching grew worse and worse, until it became torture. Sweet torture, but torture nonetheless.
    Still, he held back, only thrusting enough to maintain the connection.
    I dug my fingertips into his buttocks and begged for him to stop holding back.
    “Patience,” he whispered. “We’ll get there together.”
    I closed my eyes and let myself surrender. There was no hurry, nowhere we had to be. I let myself be soft in his arms, serene and calm, like the lake by his cabin.
    The more I relaxed, the more the fire grew within me. I thought of us standing together at the shore of the lake, holding hands. It was far in the future, and we had children running around us, splashing around with friends and second-cousins.
    My breath caught in my throat, and I squeezed my eyes shut. He was inside me, and he was close to the edge. I’d been on birth control since before the wedding, but for a moment, I imagined that I wasn’t, and that he was about to burst new life into me, taking us closer to our shared future.
    In my mind, I saw the faces of our beautiful children, and then I opened my eyes and I saw him. My Dalton. My gorgeous, kind, talented husband.
    We were barely moving.
    The dam burst.
    I gasped as the pleasure shot through me. As my head exploded with light, I felt my muscles contract around him.
    His dam burst, too, and we both clutched each other like two people who didn’t just need each other, but wanted each other. Liked each other. Loved each other.
    Dalton and I made love to each other for the first time in L.A., on the second night in our shared house.
    When we were done, there was nothing left to say.
    We had a shower, and then lounged under the moonlight by the pool, feeding each other cold grapes from the fridge.
    When we were refreshed, we returned to the bedroom and got a little less tender for the second round. We enjoyed each other immensely, and at one point, we made noises that sounded an awful lot like the barking sea lions we’d seen on our visit to San Francisco.

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