“Climb up here,” I say. It’s meant to be an order, but it comes out as a plea. “Right f**king here.”

She rises to her knees and slides her panties and garters down and off. The heels follow. Then she crawls up the bed next to me, swings her knee around, and hovers over my insatiable mouth. Taking her h*ps in my hands, I guide her pu**y down to my face.


She’s so worked up, so hot, I feel the warmth against my lips even before I taste her. But when my tongue sinks inside, my eyes roll to the back of my head.

Her taste—fuck—it gets better every time. I revel in the sensation of being surrounded by her. I think she calls my name, but my heartbeat pulses so loud in my ears, I can’t be sure. While I feast on her, Kate lowers her upper body so it’s flush with my torso.

I feel her warm breath on my c**k first. Then the sublime wetness of her mouth encases me—and I swear my heart stops in its tracks.

People who think this is wrong or depraved are out of their mind. If that were true, we wouldn’t fit like this so f**king perfectly. We were made to do this.

My fingers dig into the flesh of her perfect ass. Holding her against me, moving her left and right in an unforgiving rhythm guaranteed to make her come. I want that so much—to feel her, my wife, pulsing around my tongue, writhing against my face.

She’s not slow or teasing with her mouth now. She takes me all the way in, until I feel the back of her throat—then she sucks hard as she slides upward. Over and over, until my legs quake.

We work in tandem, giving and receiving the most salacious pleasure. She hums around me, and the vibrations push me closer to the edge. I feel the tingles in my spine, the tightening of my balls.

But I don’t want to come like this—not yet. I’ll certainly revisit that opportunity later, but this first time, I want to be buried deep inside her when I let go.

With renewed vigor, I find her cl*t with my tongue. I press against it, suck on it, then thrust inside her—stimulating all her pleasure points. When Kate starts to buck against me, when she loses her focus on my c**k and has to take her mouth off it to get in enough air—I know my actions are about to pay off.

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“Drew,” she whimpers against my thigh, holding on to my legs, trying to ground herself because she’s about to take flight. I grasp her ass tighter. . . .

She’s there. Falling. Flying. A thousand blissful eruptions coursing through her as she comes on my face and calls my name. Over and over.

Afterward, Kate stills and her harsh breaths tickle my thighs. Taking one last lick, I maneuver her boneless limbs until she’s lying on the bed and I’m above her.

She smiles into my face, looking happy and orgasm-weak. “That was so good . . . the best ever.”

I can only smirk as pure masculine pride wells in my chest. “The best . . . so far.”

She lifts her arms around my neck, her knees bent and resting against my ribs. “Love me, Drew. Make love to me. Please.”

I drag the tip of my c**k up and down over her opening, savoring the feel of her hot wetness. “Look at me, Kate.”

She gazes up at me—and I swear it feels like she’s seeing into my soul. I push into her slowly, drawing the action out until our lower stomachs press together.

We’re joined deeply—in every conceivable way.

My head tilts back and I shift my hips, moving in tight, close rotations. “You’re so wet, Kate . . . you feel . . . Christ, it’s unbelievable.”

It really is.

In the last five years, I’ve wondered if sex between Kate and me would ever get stale. Ever not feel as if my blood vessels were exploding from pleasure overload.

Hasn’t happened yet.

As far as I’m concerned, this cinches it. It’s just going to keep getting better.

Her inner muscles contract and squeeze. At last I start to move, dragging my dick out from her heavenly pu**y, then thrusting back in. Groaning louder each time.

I lift up so I can watch. Nothing is more of a turn-on than watching my c**k disappear into Kate. If I was going to go blind, that would be the last image I’d want to take into the darkness with me.

“Kiss me, Drew,” she begs.

I lower my head and Kate’s tongue runs across my lips, then plunges into my mouth—tangling with my own. Our h*ps move together, gaining speed and force. Our moans and whispered words mingle in our mouths and along the skin of our necks and shoulders.

This is more than magnificent screwing.

More than the physical expression of love.

It’s spiritual.

I don’t know if there’s a heaven. I sure as shit don’t know if I’ll ever get there. But if there is . . . it’s got to feel like this. Perfect harmony with another soul, surrounded by warmth and acceptance and rapture without end.


Kate’s h*ps rise to meet mine as I thrust into her again and again. Searing pleasure courses up my legs, threatening to burst, but I hold it off—because there’s no way I’m going alone.

All I can pant out is “With me . . .”

Kate gasps, “Yes . . .”

I push in deep one last time and burst inside her in a forceful pulse. Spots dance behind my closed eyes, and exhilaration floods the motherfucking marrow of my bones. Kate constricts and throbs around me as her nails bite into my back.

After, neither of us moves for a few minutes. Not sure either of us can.

I finally manage to roll to the side, with my arms still around her—both of us breathing hard and slick with the best kind of sweat.

She brushes the damp hair off my forehead with a smile.

“Holy shit,” I breathe. “That was incredible. We should’ve gotten married years ago.”

“You said it. I think I had a stroke.”

We laugh.

There are a few specific moments in my life that I consider as the greatest. That first night with Kate. The day she believed I loved her and told me she felt the same. The day James was born.

And this . . . this moment right here just made the list.

I pull her close and touch her face. My voice is rough, heavy with emotion, as the words are torn from my lungs. “I love you, Kate. I’m going to love you forever. And whatever comes after forever—I’m going to love you then too.”

My words bring tears to her eyes, She kisses me gently, softly. Then she traces my lips with her finger. “You can bet your ass that I’m going to hold you to that, Drew Evans.”

So that’s it. The epic conclusion.

I think we’ve come a long away, don’t you? From that guy you first met with the “flu,” camped out on his living-room couch?