Chapter 168

Ava

We had moved from the hot tub to the plush lounge chairs on the veranda, where Chris had laid out on his back. I leaned over him, peppering kisses along his inner thighs as my hand continually stroked up and down his increasingly-thick and throbbing member.

“Goddess, Ava,” he groaned, shoving his head back into the pillows, “you’re good with your mouth.”

I grinned up at him and flicked my tongue across the tip of his manhood, eliciting another groan from him.

“Is that so?”

Before he could answer, I parted my lips and slipped him fully into my mouth. He let out a strained moan, his fingers tangling into my wet hair as I slid further down—far enough so that my nose touched his groin. I lingered there for a moment, letting him enjoy the sensation, before I came back up for air with a wet smack.

Using my spit as lubrication, I continued moving my hand up and down his shaft.

“Yes,” he finally managed, his green eyes practically rolling back into his head. “It is so.”

“Good.”

Taking another breath, I did the same; only this time, I worked my mouth up and down his warm cock, my lips sliding and puckering along the soft skin. His moans fueled me, the feeling of his hand gently moving my head back and forth only serving to create more heat that coiled outward from my groin.

When I came back up for air this time, gasping for breath, I was positively wet and throbbing myself.

Chris, noticing this, shot me a cheeky grin. “Let me pleasure you,” he begged. “I’m good with my mouth too, you know.”

He didn’t need to tell me twice. Biting my lower lip, I stood and walked around the chair to where his head was. I straddled him, taking a moment to enjoy the sensation of his fingers digging into the soft skin of my thighs before I sat down.

The feeling of his tongue sliding along my flesh was enough to send an electric shock up my spine.

Without even realizing it, a moan slipped free, then another, then another. He wasn’t lying; he was good with his mouth, and he used all of it. Not just his tongue, but his lips, too. In between licks, he would kiss me there, trailing along my clit and labia like he was tasting a fine wine.

Once I had regained my composure enough, I leaned forward and slipped him back into his mouth. I reveled in the taste of him, my head moving faster and faster, my lips tightening around his cock. I brought my hand up to cup and massage his thighs and balls, arching my back against his belly.

And it was there, at some point beneath the moon and stars, surrounded by the sound of the crickets chirping, that we came together.

…

I woke up to the soft light of dawn filtering through the cottage windows and the sensation of a cool spot beside me where Chris belonged. Still nude, I slowly began to recall the previous night—the taste of his warmth in my mouth, the feeling of his tongue between my legs.

It was euphoric, even now, hours later.

Chris was already up and wandering around in the kitchen. Quietly, I tossed the covers off of myself and stood. I found him already brewing coffee and preparing two plates of fruit and pastries.

“What’s this?” I asked, yawning.

“Well, it was supposed to be breakfast in bed,” Chris said as he planted a kiss against the side of my neck, “but since you’re up, and the sun is out, maybe it could be breakfast on the veranda instead. Go get ready.”

While I showered and dressed in a light sundress, Chris finished preparing our breakfast. By the time I emerged, everything was set up on the veranda, and my stomach was growling.

“Chris, this looks amazing,” I said as I settled into one of the chairs.

He poured me a cup of coffee and sat down across from me. “Wait till you see what I’ve got planned for today.”

“Oh? More surprises?”

“You know it,” Chris grinned. “But first, eat up. We’ve got a busy day ahead.”

We enjoyed our breakfast, chatting about the previous day’s adventures and the upcoming wedding. As we finished, Chris hurriedly dressed and ushered me out of the cottage, still not telling me where we were headed.

After a brief walk to the main house on the estate, we were greeted by a cheerful woman in her mid-fifties, her hair pulled back in a neat bun. “Welcome! You must be Chris and Ava. I’m Maria, and I’ll be your guide today.”

After introductions, Maria led us into a beautiful tasting room. The walls were lined with bottles, and a large window offered a stunning view of the vineyard.

“We’ll start with a tasting of our signature wines,” Maria explained, gesturing for us to take a seat at the bar. “Then I have a special surprise for you two.”

I shot Chris a questioning look, but he just winked at me.

Maria began pouring small amounts of different wines, explaining the characteristics of each. I listened intently, fascinated by the different grape varieties and aging processes.

“You seem to have quite an interest in winemaking,” Maria observed.

I nodded enthusiastically. “I actually make my own wine at home. It’s a hobby of mine.”

“Well,” Maria said with a knowing smile, “you’re in for a treat, then. If you’ll follow me, we have something special prepared for you two.”

She led us out of the tasting room and down a set of stairs. The temperature dropped noticeably as we descended into what was clearly a wine cellar. Rows upon rows of barrels lined the walls, and the rich smell of aging wine filled the air.

My eyes were wide as I took it all in. “Wow, this is incredible,” I breathed. It made my little wine cellar back at home look like a closet.

“It gets better,” Chris said, squeezing my hand. “Maria, would you like to do the honors?”

Maria nodded. “Chris has arranged for you two to make your own wine today.”

My jaw dropped. I turned to Chris, unable to even find the right words. Chris merely grinned and gestured to the winemaking barrel. “Ladies first.”

For the next few hours, Maria guided us through the process of making our own blend of wine using methods I had never tried before. She explained different techniques, letting us experiment with various combinations of grapes.

“The key,” Maria said, watching as I carefully measured out different wines, “is to find a balance. You want the flavors to complement each other, not compete.”

I nodded, my brow furrowed in concentration. “Like this?” I asked, offering a small glass to Maria.

Maria took a sip, her eyes closing as she considered the taste. “Very good! Your homemade wine must be excellent, Ava.”

Finally, after hours of tasting and adjusting, we settled on our final blend. Maria helped us bottle it, even allowing us to create our own label.

“What should we call it?” Chris asked as we stared at the blank label.

I thought for a moment, then smiled. “How about ‘Moonstone Blend’? A little nod to home.”

“Perfect.”

As Maria finished corking our bottle, she handed it to us with a flourish. “Here you are! Your very own Moonstone Blend. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

After that, we said our goodbyes to Maria and made our way back to the cottage, our precious bottle of wine in hand. We had just enough time to get ready for the wedding.

As I emerged from the bathroom in my deep blue dress, my hair styled in elegant waves, I caught Chris adjusting his tie in the mirror. He turned, his eyes widening as he took me in.

“You look stunning, as always,” he said, reaching out to brush his fingers along my waist.

I blushed, shuddering a bit beneath his touch. Reaching out, I straightened his tie. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Alpha.”

…

The wedding ceremony had been beautiful, held in an outdoor pavilion overlooking the vineyard. The bride was absolutely stunning in her white gown, and although I didn’t know any of the people here, I even shed a tear or two when they exchanged their vows.

After the ceremony, we made our way to the reception hall. The place was somehow even more beautiful, with vaulted ceilings, candlelit tables covered in pristine white cloths, and a bar on the back veranda overlooking the vineyards below. It was massive, too; there had to have been at least five hundred people in attendance, each of them more impeccably dressed than the last.

“Come on,” Chris said, guiding me through the crowd. “I want you to meet someone.”

As we approached, the groom turned and broke into a wide grin. “Chris! You made it!”

They exchanged a brief hug before Chris turned to me. “James, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Ava.”

The word ‘girlfriend’ sent a thrill through me. It was the first time Chris had introduced me as such in the human world, or at least, the first time since our relationship had truly gone public, and I couldn’t help myself—I blushed.

Deeply.