:: previous – Hungry For Love
It’s early morning, but judging by the swollen dark clouds, it looks like nighttime. Rain is coming. Perfect for a day in.
I spread out across the bed. Misa’s spot has cooled in her absence.
Lucky for me, she left the bathroom door open, providing a gorgeous view of her soapy nipples and a pink washcloth sliding between her thighs through the shower glass.
She starts her job with the library soon and work has kept me busy since we got back from Synestia, so I’m taking a break to spend with her. No deadlines, no plans. Just us, at home.
On instinct, I reach beneath the sheets, imagining my hand is Misa’s clutch as I breathe in whatever sweet stuff she showers with.
What is it about that smell?
Through the thickening mist, she hand draws a heart on the glass, peeks through it and gives me the look.
I know what that means.
But I won’t last long. Not this early…
I rip my glasses and the sheets off anyway to join her.
“Hey—AHH!” I back away.
She adjusts the water from lava to reasonable, then giggles and looks away. “Hi,” she says with her back to me.
I twirl one of her thick, wet curls around my finger. “Good morning.” She turns and looks up at me with a cheerful smile. Tiny drops of water hug her lashes like diamonds. Her eyes speak a distinct language when her hands fall in between my legs, tugging on my cock. Each wet stroke reminds me of her tight insides squeezing me with her body sorcery.
I grip her waist and lift her up against the soaked wall, positioning myself between her spread legs. She drapes her arms around my neck as I ease inside of her, listening to her moaning gasps.
Our bodies stay connected as I lower us onto the bench, grateful it’s still warm from the lava. On my lap, she grinds like she’s on a mission.
Let’s start each day like this.
She tips her body back and presses her toes up against the wall behind me, moving faster. Wilder. Water splashes over her bouncing breasts and trails down her belly. She’s mesmerizing—everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.
“Mmm!” I can’t hold it…
“Aah!” Misa squeals. “Yes…” She puts her feet down and moves in closer, kissing and sucking my neck.
The fog from the shower clouds my vision.
“I love you…” I whisper, over and over.
. . .
Mm, yes! He cooked!
I grab panties and a t-shirt, dressing myself as I head to the dining room where scents of bacon, raisin toast, pancakes, and eggs hang in the air.
“Fried potatoes!?” my eyes bulge at the steaming heap of them in the center of the dining table. They’re mixed with green and red peppers, onion, and a sprinkle of cheese. “Wow.”
“That shower knocked us out.” Emilian paces around the table. He seems nervous as he looks over the spread. “A late breakfast, err—brunch. I figured you’d wake up just as hungry as me… Had to move fast since it looks like rain soon.” He holds out a chair. “Please, sit.”
“This is so sweet, Mili, thank you. I’m starving.” I eyeball the spread. “Whew… you made a feast!”
He hands me a full plate, a cup of honey vanilla chamomile tea, then sets a tiny glass vase on the table with a fresh red rose from our garden inside.
“Yes, I’m… Trying to try new things—trying to do different things, I mean. Ugh.” He shakes his head. He’s always nervous about his cooking abilities around me. There’s not one thing he’s made that I haven’t loved.
“It’ll taste just as great as it looks, Mili.” I grab a fork and dig in.
He kisses the top of my head and takes a seat beside me as he fixes a plate for himself.
Outside, it rains softly. Little pitter-patter splashing pools, it’s the world’s drink. Mom’s words on days like this.
One day, I’ll say it to my kids.
“Hm. Knew it.” Emilian says, smirking at the window as if he’s master of the weather.
He makes me smile.
Rainy, peaceful days at home like this are the best.
. . .
I awake on the living room couch with a book of Crown Lore on top of my face. It’s turned to chapter four, The Dragon.
Jeez… No wonder I had weird dreams.
I set it aside and rub my eyes.
Muted highlights of man’s triumphs with a basketball are playing on the TV. Emilian must’ve been watching while I was asleep.
“Is it a threat?”
I sit up at the sound of his irritated voice from down the hallway.
“What do you mean Tehanie’s gone? She’s still planning the wedding, right?”
Thunder booms outside. It sounds like a mountain split open.
My forever sunflower hops up my arm fast. “What’s wrong, huh?” I stroke its smooth little petals. “It’s just nature… Let’s turn the fire on. Are you cold?” I rub my goosebump arms and flip the switch as the flames roar to life. “I’m super cold.”
It tucks itself behind my ear.
What’s it so afraid of?
I head for Emilian’s study, but the empty room grabs my attention.
I look inside.
It feels like a foreign land…
We’ve thrown around some ideas for this room. Maybe make it into a cool hangout spot, or another spare bedroom for guests, but we can never decide. This house is enormous.
Suddenly, the window curtain stretches outward. It looks like a balloon is growing beneath the sheer fabric.
I don’t hear any wind…
A fast quiet swallows the room. The sort that feels like time froze, and no one else is alive.
“Whoa…” I whisper to my sunflower.
It buries itself in my ponytail.
The curtain deflates and whips against the window with a loud popping sound. It stands still after, as if nothing happened.
I part the curtains fast and close the window.
No wonder it’s so chilly in here.
“You’re okay… It’s only air. Nothing to fear.”
Outside, I see Mr. Paper standing among a small crowd of neighbors chit-chatting on the sidewalk. Some are holding their phones in the air.
Are they taking pics? There can’t be a party. Not in this doom weather.
As if he knows I’m watching, Mr. Paper turns in my direction, smiling at me.
“The crown doesn’t know what it is?!” Emilian shouts in the distance.
What’s going on?
My sunflower leaps from my hair, hops on its tiny stem across the rug and out of the room.
“No… Come back!”
It slows near Emilian’s study, looks back at me, then squeezes through the cracked door.
I can’t stand disturbing him when he’s in there. He works so hard.
I follow it in and find its leaf tugging at Emilian’s pant leg while he talks on the phone. Carefully, he lifts it onto his shoulder as they look out the window together.
What the—my breath catches when I see the sky. “Emilian?!”
His face floods with worry when he turns to me.
Grims eat fear.
“Let me call you back, Dad.”