This is very much rate M! Turn back now if you're under 17, my dears. I decided to write this in 2nd person for the simple fact that I love sensory detail in the 2nd.

I hope you like it; please read and review. This is a sequel of sorts to FiZG.

Love from, Miss Claire. xxxx

Ever Mooners

He has brown hair that sticks out every which way and those unseeing eyes that seem to see into your soul every time they unknowingly meet your brown ones.

You now wear the heavy weight of his ring on your finger and it has been on there for a few hours now. You can't wipe the stupid grin off your face, but are relieved to see that your forever lover wears the same one.

While the occasion is a jubilant, happy one, something about this makes you both want silence. You go to one of the multitude of bars in their hotel, one more sophisticated and darker than the neon lit others in a jungle of sound.

A jazz band plays soft swing in the background, sort of making you want to dance, regardless of the fact that might be kind of awkward with your husband. You order a peach martini as your husband orders a Jack and coke and watch the crowd move around the space.

A man, a blonde that other women would call hot, comes up to you, asks you to dance. You shake your head and politely decline, saying you're here with someone. The man just smirks, asking so what. At this point, your husband slides off his bar stool, spins you around, and dip is head so his lips meet yours in a searing kiss that makes you weak at the knees and literally melting. You feel him smirk against your lips then pull back. He throws down some money, grabs your hand, and drags you to the elevator that will take you to your room.

He has the bite of whiskey, the sweetness of the cola and the mintiness of wintergreen gum on his tongue that he was basically shoved down your throat the minute the hotel room door slammed behind you. The wood is cool against your back and you realize he already has you out of your dress.

He begins kissing down your neck, throwing in the occasional lick and nibble, as you begin unbuttoning his shirt. That task accomplished, you run your nails down his back before starting in on his pants.

He moves in and kisses you again, and before you realize it you are completely naked and with him on top of you, pressing you down into the bed. His hardness rests against your thigh, making you wetter. The pads of his thumbs graze your nipples and you can't keep back a moan.

His kisses move reverently down from your mouth to trail down your chest and across your stomach. You only half realize what he's doing because you're more focused on rubbing your pussy against his thigh in hopes that any friction will relieve the need to be filled.

When he puts his tongue on your slit, you scream even though you're a far cry from done. His tongue dips inside you and whirls circles in an attempt to lap up every little bit of your juices. His fingers dip into you also, three of them, thrusts in and out a couple times, and then bites your clit hard enough you're sure it's bleeding.

He's back at your collarbone before you can blink and has thrust into you, making you come on the spot. He has smeared your juices onto your breasts and sucks a nipple into his mouth, peppering in little nips like he knows you normally want. Your back arches off the bed as he begins to thrust into you in a hard fast rhythm that you know he likes when he's in a jealous state.

You can feel him losing control and he pulls out, gets you on your knees, and starts fucking you like an animal. His fingers start rubbing circles on your clit and you come again, screaming. You dimly realize he's coming too and can't help but smile happily as he collapses on top of you. You roll over underneath him and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on his tongue.

You hope the honeymoon phase will never end.

(It won't.)