It's Got A Ring To It

by Desconhecido(a)

  By the time the third tour ended, we were hankering with a thirst that couldn’t be quenched with wine. Myles tipped the driver quickly as we arrived back at the inn, practically dragging me to the room, until he couldn’t wait another second and swooped me up into his arms. At the door, we were downright animalistic. Ripping at each other’s clothes without a care. It was all hands in hair. Rubbing and suckling. I was unbuttoning his shirt and pants while he unfastened the straps on my halter dress.

  Then, abruptly, he stopped everything.

  “Laila, I love you and I really wanted this time to be special. I told you I wanted to make love to you. Should we slow things down?”

  Out of breath and dizzy, I gave him props for having any control at all. There’s no way, we could just start all over and go slow. I was already nearing the edge. “Next time.” I managed, winded, ferociously pushing him onto the bed. He lay there waiting. Just the thought of being in control of the situation, gave me an incredible surge of power. Ironically, a calming effect. I was emboldened by the prospect of controlling this moment. Seductively, I stepped back and unzipped the back of my dress taking in the scene, never breaking our gaze. Rose petals still adorned the bed and the walls flashed from the candles alight around the room. My hips swayed slowly as I let the dress fall to the floor. Myles’ head tilted and his mouth contorted into a smirking smile. If anything, he was intrigued and pleased at the turn of events. With his eyes locked on me, I thumbed the sides of my panties and tugged until they joined my dress on the floor. The lights were all on and I wasn’t the least bit put off by my nakedness.

  “Take off your shirt,” I commanded, watching admiringly as he obeyed. He unbuttoned the first two buttons of his long-sleeve white dress shirt, then lifted it effortlessly over his head. “Now your pants.” The orders came free flowing, one by one, as if this was a part of me that had been repressed. His slacks weren’t fastened and his blue boxer briefs peeked teasingly at me. “Slowly,” I commanded as he released himself, letting his pants circle around his ankles. He reached for the elastic rim of his boxer briefs, ready for his next order, but I couldn’t let him have all the fun. “Allow me,” I said softly.

  Nearing him, he attempted to sit up, but I gently nudged him back with a warning nod. Carefully, I tugged at the briefs, with fixed attention as every carnal desire inside me heightened at the very sight of his erection. Coquettishly, I climbed onto the bed with one leg on either side of him, mounting him. I stroked purposefully until I was sure that he was fully aroused, then I rolled the condom down and positioned him at the opening between my thighs. Gently, he thrust himself in until my walls tightened around him. I closed my eyes in delicious bliss. Rhythmically rocking. Steadying my breath with each inch of his full length surrounded by my depth. I sat into it, winding him into position. As quickly as I ascertained the idea, he reached up claiming my mouth with his while his hands explored my body. In one swift motion, he spun me onto my back, thrusting himself deeper, as I opened my legs wider to receive all of him.

  There was no point fighting it. I wanted him to control me. Relieved and turned on at the same time, I conceded his victory over me and permitted my body to release. He captured my pleasured gaze, as he lowered the full weight of his body, pinning me down. Up and down, my chest rose and fell. Mouth agape with exhilarated anticipation. He averted his attention to my neck. Warm and wet, his tongue trailed the length from nape to collarbone. Behind my ear it led, then burned a path downward to my breasts. Myles took one into his mouth, satiating his hunger. Licking and sucking, harder. Harder.

  He pulled himself out to the tip as his capable hands burrowed beneath me, taking my ass within their grip as he shifted to guide my legs open farther. Teasing me. Taunting me. His fingers entered slowly, welcomed by moist wetness. That same knowing grin crossed his face, meeting my eyes again. I was ready for him. Craving him. Pleasured by him, when he reentered.

  We pulsed to our own tempo, swayed in motion. In. Out. In. Out. Deeper. Harder. Harder. “Myles,” I moaned. In cadence, he plunged deeper and harder, meeting my yearning throbs like a ticking time bomb, awaiting the inevitable explosion that comes. As he found my clitoris, I wrapped my legs tightly around him, locking him in place, so he could only go faster and deeper. “Oh, right there. Right there. Right there.” I gasped. A broken record. Our labored breath hitched on lust infused with love.

  “Laila,” a winded groan seeped out. He was nearly there, too. On edge. On top. In love. Making love. At the brink with me. And when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he pushed until he reached the deepest end of my sweet depth and held it there. Tremors rocked our sated quaking bodies. Myles’ uneven breath gradually settled as he laid on me, still inside me.

  I never felt closer to anyone. Somehow, in the midst of such an intimate moment, he touched my heart and though it still scared me, I reveled in our proximity and forced myself to stay in the moment. We’d had sex before, but it made such a difference to have sex without uncertainty. We were free to talk about and act on our feelings. “Myles, I’m so in love with you,” I repeated, relishing in the sweet sound of the words that I’d been longing to say.

  When he lifted his eyes to mine, he was smiling from ear to ear. “Well, that’s good news since I’m in love with you too, Laila Smart,” he murmured leaning in for another heartwarming kiss followed by a robust yawn and head to toe stretch.

  “Are you getting tired on me?”

  “Well, it is getting pretty late. Why? What did you have in mind?”

  I responded only with a sinful smile.

  “Round two?” And as I nodded my assent, he playfully tackled me back down on the bed. “What am I going to do with you woman?”

  The morning sun peeked through the blinds, and cautiously, I cracked my eyes open. A familiar scene. Myles wasn’t next to me, and my heart sank. Déjà vu. New Year’s all over again. I was alone in a bed after a mind-blowing night with Myles, the master of the exit strategy. I sat up to look around the room, but there were no hinting sounds that he was in the bathroom or on the terrace. If it weren’t for my aching muscles and a pair of his white tennis shoes near the door, I would’ve had doubts how I’d even ended up there. I made my way over to the white terry cloth robe tossed across the chair next to the bed and slid my arms in when a knock on the door startled me.

  “Who is it?”

  A high-pitched woman’s voice informed me that room service had arrived, when Myles appeared out of thin air from the direction of the terrace, wearing the matching robe. To see this beautifully sculpted male specimen, flawless by any opinion, wrapped up in a cloud-like contraption, clearly made for someone of shorter, more rotund stature brought laughter to the eyes. With the beaming smile slathered across his face, the laughter quickly spilled from my mouth.

  “Good morning, my love,” he greeted me, ever so chipper.

  “Good morning yourself.” I smiled.

  After Myles had wheeled in the cart with a breakfast feast atop and signed the order receipt, very businesslike, with his matching fluffy slippers, he waited for the door to close and immediately redirected his attention to me. “Hopefully you slept well. I have a great day planned for us.”

  Dismissing his comment completely, I interjected my burning question. “And why is it, Myles, that I never wake up with you still lying beside me?” I looked at him pointedly, with a slight teasing edge.

  He knew that he was caught. There’s no rebuttal that he could give that would help him win this one. First, he looked down, still smiling, but guilty as ever. Then he shot back, “Is it such a bad thing, that I like waking up early to make sure you’re fed? It won’t be like this every day. I’m hoping that we’ll have a lifetime to wake up next to each other.”

  He was good, really good. Always knew exactly what to say at the exact right time. What could I say to that? Don’t take care of me? Don’t be affectionate and thoughtful? But, I thought we were taking things one day at a time, and he’d implied forever. A
lifetime? Marriage? My mind went racing a million miles an hour and it must’ve shown because he was bent over with amusement.

  “Laila, stop freaking out. I just meant, that I don’t see you as some fling. I love you and I want a future with you. But one day at a time,” he said, reading my mind. I tried weakly to laugh it off, embarrassed. “If you could’ve seen the look on your face. You would think I asked you to come jump off a cliff with me.”

  As he enjoyed himself at my expense, I pulled the silver platter cover off the short stack of pancakes and buttered each layer. He had me on that one. I was freaking out. I generously drizzled the rich amber syrup over the golden pancakes, allowing it to puddle around the stack, quietly wondering why I’d gotten so bent out of shape at the idea of marrying Myles. No, he hadn’t proposed, but my reaction alarmed me. I carried the white porcelain plate over to the small bistro-style table for two, and began forking at bites of the scrambled eggs on the side.

  “Though, it’s not the question that you were thinking of, I do need to ask you something, Laila.” I nodded my assent for him to continue. “I know we’re both going to be pretty busy at Elle’s wedding with me giving her away and you taking care of the candy station, but I was hoping you’d like to be my date,” he stated nervously, standing over me at the table.

  “Of course. I’d love to be your date,” I answered on a whim without a second thought.

  “As my girlfriend?”

  “Yeah?” It came out as a question, but it was something of a statement. It wasn’t what I was expecting, but I could handle that kind of proposition.

  “Is that your answer, or do you need me to repeat the question?”

  “Yes. My answer is yes,” I replied ecstatically. Wife, I wasn’t sure about, but girlfriend I could handle, fluffy slippers and all. As he loosened the tie around his robe, it amazed me, the effect that he had upon me. The way he could set the blood coursing through my veins aflame with only his touch or a steamy gaze. He pulled me up from the chair as we kissed hungrily. A crisp breeze swept in from the terrace—my only solace from the heat rising between us. His smoky eyes, dark with desire. Strong arms encircled me. My body arched to meet him as he backed onto the adjacent chair, lifting me atop. From the pocket of his fluffy robe, he pulled out the foiled wrapper.

  “Ah.” Myles slipped smoothly inside me. He entered me over and again, slowly and with salacious fervor. I writhed eagerly, fervently, to his rhythm. He’d hooked me. With just a little taste, I only wanted more. Yearned for more. A parched thirst, that couldn’t be quenched. “Don’t stop. Please keep going. Please. Please. Please.” I was fully wound. At the peak of divine agony, Myles joined me, struggling to let me go first. As my need ruptured all around him, he let go, too. Ragged breathing, our bodies graciously quaked free. For all the orgasms I’d faked in the past, I could’ve kicked myself. I’d been doing myself such a disservice, now knowing the possibilities of lovemaking with a man who made me feel insatiable.

  We continued our relaxation out on the terrace. Vineyards spanned the vast distance around us until the fertile earth and the sun-drenched sky merged. The enticing aroma of wood and grapes tickled my nose. Fresh. Quiet. Peaceful.

  Across from me, Myles sat, alternating between bites of eggs and bacon and fidgeting with his camera. He had a relationship with his camera that most people hoped for in a partner. It was more like an extra limb, completing him. Watching him, fascinated by his love for art and life in motion, only made my love for him grow wider. When he peered through the lens, he became part of the picture. Joining in on the world on the other end. For him, a picture really was worth a thousand words. Maybe more. He could try to limited avail to explain his feelings and perspective, but one glance at what he saw through his lens, made it so much clearer. His passionate discussion of art soothed me, fondly it reminded me of the museum tour, and my introduction to his world.

  Every once in a while, he’d let me see stills he’d shot. Some for magazines, others for his personal collection. Many of them, landscapes and vistas, but most highlighted the little things that the majority of people overlooked. A hummingbird midflight hovering near a spring blossom. Rays of sunshine piercing through a canopy of evergreens. A beautiful woman lost amid her thoughts. His eyes captured pictures, the way musicians heard melodies in the wind and birdsongs. The way writers assembled ordinary words into extraordinary poetry.

  We’d talked about them and viewed them from his perspective, but it wasn’t until he let me see through the other end of the lens with his direction, did I really get it. More than that, it felt like a recurring theme between us. I’d been locked away in the dark so long, and slowly, he was ushering me back into a place alight with promise and a brand new frame of reference. It wasn’t his intention, but I was indebted to him for renewing my hope and faith in life and the possibilities.

  “Take a look around and describe to me what you see.” Myles positioned the camera in front of me as he eased behind me. His mammoth hands covered mine, and his light touch set my skin ablaze. At first, there was only a blank canvas, as far as I was concerned.

  “Trees and a few vineyards.”

  “Close your eyes for a second. Think about all of your senses, not just sight. Inhale. Listen first with your ears, then open your eyes again and find not only what you see, but what you hear and smell. What would you like to reach out and touch? Taste?”

  When I looked again, it was as if my eyes had awakened for the first time. Suddenly, the light danced. Animals appeared, chirping, running, soaring in front of my eyes. Glints of light glistened off blades of grass and leaves. But, beyond the trees and grass, color popped, more vibrant than before. Cerulean skies and viridescent foliage. I could almost touch the wind blowing through the flora. Every smell, tantalizing my nose. My mouth watered at the sweet scent of robust grapes, ripe for picking. It was three-dimensional poetry.

  “Capture your moments before they get away,” he whispered at my wide-eyed stare, as if not to disturb me. With each snap, time stood still just for me. The land was alive. It sashayed and posed in front of the lens. Flirting. Bashful. Bold. Luminescent. I twisted and turned in every angle to take even the smallest piece with me. Then, I focused on the most flawless figure.

  Myles backed away with his hands held high in defense. “Hey, be careful with that,” he teased in mock horror. “What are you doing? Everything worth catching is out there.”

  I shook my head in disagreement. “I beg to differ, Mr. Donovan,” I explained, still hidden behind the lens. “I’m trying to capture you before you get away.”

  Beguiled by his beauty as he slowly walked toward me, I was thankful for the hiding place. As he neared, the fresh aroma of mint from his aftershave got stronger until I was swimming in the scent of him—with no choice but to drink him in. With his right hand, he removed the camera from my grasp and slipped his left hand around my waist, pulling me to him until our bodies were pressed firmly against each other.

  “I’m not going, anywhere. In fact, there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here with you.”

  Without another word, he turned and disappeared back into the room, leaving me heady and utterly turned on, clearly not seeing the irony in his words. Just the proximity of our bodies alone, was enough to set the already blazing blood running through my veins aflame. And for the umpteenth time, I yearned for him in the most sensual way. By that point, I thought my craving would gradually taper off, but it seemed to only grow more intense. I couldn’t get enough of him.

  Softly, a musical ballad echoed from the room. As I entered, it was dim with candles sparsely placed throughout the suite. The faint sound of water running led me to the lovely garden tub, where my love was bent over sprinkling rose petals into the foamy bubbles.

  “Care to join me?” he muttered, laden with lascivious intent.

  I nodded, knowing he tasted as sweet as he looked. Without turning my eyes away, I shed my robe. The weight of his hungry stare, made me feel se
xy and desirable—not the least ashamed. Myles removed the clip from my hair and let the waves cascade over my shoulders. Deeply, he kissed me until our tongues shrouded one another. Lips locked in a rapturous embrace. Heat oozed from them, through to the depths of my erogenous zones. With both hands, he effortlessly lifted me from my feet and placed me into the tub. His darkened eyes regarded me with hedonistic resolve as he disrobed himself and eased in astride me.

  Cloaked in bubbles, we were content to let our entwined bodies soak in the warm water. Something we’d rarely done. “Tell me that you love me,” he asked.

  “I love you, Myles.”

  “Mmm.” Under hooded eyes, he seemed happier. “I love you, Laila.” The words gave me tingles. They were the right words, from the right man. “I really do want to share my life with you, you know,” he spoke after a labored pause.

  It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t exactly rhetorical either. I knew he was it for me, though the idea of marriage still left a bitter taste in my mouth. Just the thought of walking down an aisle, filled me with a panicked anxiety. Ethan couldn’t compare to Myles, but I couldn’t help wondering whether he would leave me at the altar, too.

  Later that afternoon, I met Myles at the inn entrance, where he stood patiently guarding two bicycles. He straddled one with a woven rattan basket belted to the rack and held the other by the handlebar. “This one’s yours.” A smile a mile wide crossed his face.

  “What are you up to, Donovan? And what’s in the basket?”

  “Don’t worry about that, just enjoy the ride. Take in the scenery.” He gave a guilty wink, which only further piqued my curiosity. He wore loose-fitting jeans with a soft cotton blue tee.

  “Uh-huh.”