Perfect Love (A Celestra Novella) (6 page)

BOOK: Perfect Love (A Celestra Novella)
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In one clean sweep, I pull us both out of the water and stand Skyla next to me, just taking in her beauty in the way you would a sacred statue from some fragile long-forgotten century. She outshines the moonlight streaming in as if she had swallowed the stars. The room loses all color and form, overpowered by her ecclesiastic grace. The candles flicker in her presence as if they, too, are venerating her beauty. My eyes never leave hers as I run my hands over her waist, slow and determined, down her perfect thighs before pulling the dress right off her body. Here she is, in her lace bra and panties—a masterpiece right off the lingerie runway. One of my first memories of Skyla is of her dressed like this. We swam at the Falls of Virtue when everything was still new and I hadn’t had the time to fuck a single thing up between us. We shared kisses that afternoon that testified that we would make it someday, and here we are, ready to prove ourselves right.

I sweep my eyes down the river of her curves. Hot damn.

Skyla is a testament to the female anatomy. Hers is a physical perfection that borders on insanity.

My eyes move over her, slow and intrusive. It takes great effort not to let her into my thoughts. Every part of me wants to cave into Skyla tonight. I swipe a towel from the counter and lay it over her shoulders, drying the water that’s beading down her body in long, seductive trails. Her flesh shivers, her breathing picks up pace. The slight trace of fear mixed with excitement blooms in her eyes.

I take a step into her until the heat from my body engulfs her like a flame.

“I love you more than the heavens love the sun and the moon, Skyla.” I crash my lips to hers and pour all of my love into that one lingual exchange. This is it. Our honeymoon. It has all come full circle from that first moment I set eyes on her in the bowling alley. She’s finally mine, for a short breath of time, and I’m determined to enjoy it—to savor it for all eternity. I’m determined to make every heartbeat stretch to the length of a thousand years. Tonight there are bodies to be explored, hers and mine. It’s as if the universe is breaking all of the rules for us tonight, God, himself, is bending his will to allow this miracle to happen, and in no way will I allow a second to drift by without pouring out my affection for her.

I take Skyla into my arms and carry her into the overgrown bedroom with enough candles lit on the periphery to rival the sun. Every flicker of the flames feels like the flash of a camera. The celestial paparazzi have shown up in droves to document the marvel of our love. A four-poster bed lies in the center of the room covered with rose petals, and I tuck a wry smile in my cheek at the thought of Dudley putting together the finishing touches. He was right. I’ll owe his twisted Sector ass for this one.

The petals give off a strong, lush scent—far better than any damn flower on earth could ever smell. I inhale deeply, ingraining the scent into my memory. If I could encapsulate my love for Skyla in a single fragrance, this would be it, aloe and vanilla, a hint of something sweet layered just beneath.

“Beautiful,” she pants out the word as her gaze travels around the room. Her eyes snag on the candles, their roiling flames winking in and out of turn. They drip their wax like rivers rushing down the waxen pillars, driving home the point that everything is ephemeral. It all ends. And with that piece-of-shit knowledge, the weight of the future presses down over this room—my heart—and it takes a bionic effort to chase it away.


You
are beautiful.” I push the words past the knot forming in my throat. My gaze never leaves her. I need to focus on Skyla, on the fact that my dick has hardened to stone in her honor, and, for once, it might actually get some relief from the object of its desire.

I refuse to give in to the looming phantom that death has become. Instead, my heart explodes with my love for Skyla and chases any shadow of the afterlife away. I lay her over the bed and land a sea of sweet kisses over her cheeks, her nose, her perfect, swollen lips. I want to kiss every inch of Skyla tonight, and I plan to.

She leans up and glances over at the nightstand at a basket filled with foil packets.

Looks like Dudley was up on every last detail.

“A bowlful of condoms.” She gives a sly smile. Skyla doesn’t seem to be nervous in the least, and I’m glad. I don’t want her to be. I wish I wasn’t.

“Dudley’s an extremist.”

“I think he’s a realist.” She darts her pale eyes to mine, and I bury a laugh in my chest. I, for damn sure, like where she’s going with this. Skyla leans in, scouting for another kiss, but I take my time grazing over her cheek with my mouth the way I sometimes do with an apple, taking in its hypnotic scent before I take that first, lush bite.

My lips smooth over hers soft as air before I bounce my tongue along her teeth. My mouth finds hers, and I kiss her with the intensity and passion that this interval of time deserves. My tongue slides over hers, slow at first, then hungry, unable to satisfy itself. The more we kiss the more I need to. This is an insatiable desire. My tongue is a flame and Skyla the gasoline. I needed her. I can’t exist without her.

Skyla gives a soft moan, and I lose it. This is the moment, these are the memories I want us both to remember for the rest of our eternal lives. I want Skyla to hold every other kiss she receives in her life up to this one. I want to set the bar so damn high there’s no way in hell Gage or Dudley could ever come close to loving her the way I do.

Her body trembles beneath mine as her kisses become rabid and primal. Skyla is starving for what’s to come, and the best feeling of all is knowing she wants this, craves it just as bad as I do.

Her hands glide up my chest in a fever. She works my shirt up until I pull it off. Her fingers float over my bare flesh like hot coals raking over my damp body.

A wicked grin plays on my lips as I gaze down at her for a moment. A warrior pinning his prey, my ego wants to own it, but I know better. I belonged to her. Skyla is setting the rules, creating the pathways in this new world. I’m her sexual soldier ready to serve. The plaything chosen by the queen. She could put me on a leash. Skyla owns me in the worst way.

This is it. Only a few articles of clothing separate us from one another. We’re right there at the threshold of consummating something so perfect and right.

I bury a sea of kisses in her neck before running my tongue down her chest in one smooth track. I peck over her skin all the way back to her perfect mouth, heavy as snow, and land my lips over hers. My chest pumps a million miles a minute with enough adrenaline coursing through my veins to get me to the moon and back. Every heartbeat detonates like its own orgasm—explosion after erotic explosion.

I thought I could handle being with Skyla—that
I
would be the calm one, and here I am, shaking, trembling for her touch as much as she is for mine. My dick groans stretching to its limit, my balls grind, begging to be a part of this epic undertaking that lies before us.

Our mouths, our bodies begin to fuse as wild flames of lust fan around the room, ready to devour us far too soon if we’re not careful. Skyla has the ability to make me come without too much more effort on her part.

Her fingers dip into my jeans, and I don’t stop her. Instead I reward her with a heated kiss in the soft skin of her neck as she bubbles with a dark laugh. I run my hands over her curves, slow and heated, until I feel her shudder beneath me. Her torso rises to meet with mine. Skyla leans up with the curve of a dangerous smile as she reaches back to unhook her bra. I would have done the honor. I just didn’t want to come across as greedy. But God knows I’m greedy as hell, and I plan on being just that for the entire time we’re in this beautiful bed. Her tits spring out like a pair of happy-to-see-me oranges, and I’m more than fucking pleased to see how well-endowed Skyla is. I knew she was perfect, but this is a breathtaking beauty that I could never have imagined. I would have loved her if she were flat as a board. But now all my mind can think of was new ways to fuck her. I can’t help it though. That overtly male part of me has taken over. My brain made some piss-poor decisions in the past, but and tonight my dick is hell bent on making some great ones.

“Skyla,” it barely crests my lips in a whisper as I consume myself just staring at her body. I had spent a large part of the past two years getting myself off night after night to her likeness, my mind filling in the gaps of what her body might look like, and I’m damn pleased to see I was spot on, except for the fact she’s infinitely more beautiful naked than I ever could have imagined. I force my eyes shut and let out a groan, trying not to lose it right here before we ever formally get to second base. If I had any pure intent, I left it back on Paragon. Hell, I’ve never had any pure intent with Skyla.

She unbuckles my jeans, and I muscle both them and my boxers right off my body. I toss the wet mess onto the floor as Skyla’s heated skin grazes over mine. It feels electric as if she’s branding me with her searing flesh. I imagine her name in sizzling letters, flaming across my chest, and I wholeheartedly approve of the burn.

I sit up and straddle her with my knees, venerating her from this vantage point. The candlelight dances over her skin, enlivening her in a series of golden flames—her skin flickering in spasms like Christmas lights. I trace my finger over her chest all the way down to her belly. She’s here, so perfect in every way, and it takes far more restraint than I ever thought possible to keep myself from weeping like a pussy. I’m losing it on the inside. This is far more than I can take—way more than I ever deserve. I’m the one who cost us everything. I’m the reason we won’t be replicating this effort next week. I’ve got no one else to blame.

It takes everything in me to push the self-hatred away, shelve it for another day. Instead, I focus in on the last stitch of clothing left lingering between us and run my thumbs along the inside of her panties in an effort to evict them from the scene. Skyla reaches down and helps wiggle them off, her eyes never breaking their gaze with mine. It’s electrifying. You can see the damn sparks flying around the room as the air charges around us. It snaps and crackles as if the flames were cheering us on, applauding our efforts.

“Come here.” She pulls me down until my bare flesh seals over hers, inch by erotic inch, and I let out a soft groan. Skyla coils her fingers through my hair, pulling and tugging as if it were all she can do to hold on one minute more. She plunges her tongue into my mouth hot and viral, letting me know this party is just getting started. Her breathing grows erratic. She chokes a groan from her throat as if this is too much to bear.

I’m greedy for him, all of him. The world stills around us as our bodies sway in a rhythm all their own—Logan and I dancing to the beat of our special brand of love.

I smile through our kisses as I listen in on her thoughts. My dick is ready to burst through its casing, it’s that fucking hard.

I reach over and grab a condom from Dudley’s pornographic care package, although there’s not one pornographic implication about anything that’s about to go down. This is love. This is beauty in the most perfect sense. I rip it open with my teeth and roll it over myself, slow and easy. Skyla hikes up on her elbows and watches the show. I’d say something stupid, but I don’t dare ruin the moment. If she wants to watch, I’m all for it. Heck, if she wants to help roll it on, I’d be down for that, too—so long as she’s with me, excited as hell to be here like I am.

Skyla wraps her legs around me as I lower myself onto her body.

“I love you so damn much,” I pant the words directly into her ear, my chest raging against hers as if we were fighting a war.

I brush my palms over her chest, down her smooth hips. I don’t hesitate. I sink my hand to where it’s been waiting to be and run my fingers over that heated slick between her legs, warm and wet.

Fuck
. I lurch into her as if I were in pain. I’m touching Skyla.
Touching
her. I soak in the moment, just letting my fingers swim around in their new playground. I linger there as if this is my sole vocation on this planet, and I wish to God it were.

A part of me registers this as a fantasy—as some highly tactile wet dream that I’m going to wake up from in a pool of sweat and come, but it’s far from some nocturnal wandering. This is the real deal in the best way possible.

Skyla is wet and hot, and I’m dying because I don’t want anything else but to bury myself inside her, my mouth, my head, my dick all at once. I run my fingers over her, slow and steady, and her body writhes beneath me as she chokes out a breath. I feel her folds—memorize how they slip over my fingers, how they touch me as if they’re exploring me, too. I cup her with my hand and let her writhe over me, heated and rushed. My fingers glide over her again before moving down lower. I’m tempted as hell to plunge deep inside her, but the first thing I want penetrating Skyla’s perfect body is another part of my anatomy, one far more worthy to land there in the first place—and eager as hell.

Our kisses pick up pace as I reach down and guide myself to her. Skyla rakes her nails gently over my back just as I insert the tip. All of gravity presses down over me, demanding I push into her body. Skyla is a magnetic force I can’t fight, one that I’ve been begging to swallow me whole right from the beginning. She presses me in by the small of my back, letting me know she wants this, that she wants it now.

I push in with a groan that rips from my gut as I penetrate her inch by inch. Somewhere an angelic choir sings, an entire fleet of shooting stars disintegrate into flames over the earth in our honor, so beautiful for a few brief moments just like Skyla and me.

Her heated body molds over me, tight as a vise, it feels as if I’m ripping my way inside. Her hips rise into me, and she doesn’t scream out in pain, so I go with it.

Holy fuck. I plunge in deeper, careful and slow while her body does it’s best to choke the life out of my dick, but I don’t mind. I’d give every ounce of my blood to the Counts just to have Skyla choke the hell out of my dick night after night. A brilliant shock of pain grips me as her body squeezes mine. To say she’s tight would be like saying the sun is a little hot or the ocean a little wet. I press in deeper until her body won’t take another inch, and groan into her ear. Skyla lets out a choking sound, and I imagine the tip of my dick touching her vocal cords. I relent a little, and she gives a lazy smile, her fingers digging into my thighs, pushing me deeper still. This is heaven. This is ecstasy.

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