Honeymoon

She bought the lingerie for this exact moment. White lace against tanned skin, the honeymoon suite still smelling of their last round. He watches from the bed as she turns slowly, letting him see how the straps bite into her hips. She likes what it does to his face. The lace is thin enough that he can see the hard points of her nipples through it, and she doesn’t hide the way she shifts, pressing her thighs together just to feel the wet spot growing between them. When she climbs onto the mattress, the fabric pulls tight across her ass. He reaches out, fingers sliding under the waistband, but she stops him with a hand on his wrist. Instead she settles between his legs, hair falling forward as she lowers her mouth. The silk of her bra brushes his thigh while she takes him in, slow and deliberate, tongue working the underside with wet little strokes. Her lipstick leaves faint marks along the length of him. She sucks deeper, cheeks hollowing, one hand stroking what her mouth can’t reach. The honeymoon has barely started, and already she’s on her knees in the prettiest thing she owns, giving him exactly what he married her for.