I came to consciousness slowly as a weight settled behind me and suddenly I was wrapped in a smell as familiar to me as a well-loved book.
"I didn't expect you to be here," Gabriel murmured, pressing slow kisses to my neck. "When did you get in?"
I smiled and turned in his arms. "A few hours ago. I tried to stay up, but jet-lag got the better of me."
"Well, ten years in India will do that." For a while, we lay there facing each other. A breeze from the open window carried the smell of sunlight and summer. We didn't need to speak; we just drank in the sight. Centuries together, and still the sweetness of reuniting never dimmed. "How long will you stay?"
"Indefinitely. Apparently, ten years is as long as I can go without you." He smiled and pressed a kiss to my nose. "Are the kids coming?"
His grin widened. "Not until tomorrow morning. Sybil and Saoirse are bringing their husbands at 11, and Peter, Emma, Leo, and Gabe plan to arrive around noon." After all my whining about ridiculous names growing up, and I'd done the same to my own children. The only regular names were from friends we'd lost to time. "They're bringing their children, too." He sounded a little disgruntled, and I laughed.
"Well, this is why we bought the big house," I teased. House was a relative term. The mansion had 15 rooms, all to house a family that had grown exponentially as our kids grew up and granted their mates immortality. Every ten year anniversary, they all came home to their parents to celebrate with us, and as our brood had grown, so had our home.
Gabriel and I sometimes spent years apart, exploring the ever-changing world, but always came back to each other. The time apart kept us changing as individuals, and with each reunion came time to fall in love all over again as we became reacquainted. We wouldn't leave the bed for days: we would spend hours making love, worshipping each other with a passion that had never diminished, and then days telling stories about our travels. For all my adventures, and all of his, I never found myself growing tired of this man. He still surprised me.
"So, if the kids aren't coming for another day, then it sounds like we have some time on our hands," I said, rolling us over until I straddled him. He slapped my butt playfully and I laughed.
On its own, my shirt ripped apart, and his eyebrows flew up. "You got a tattoo," he breathed. His eyes darkened as he traced the elaborate design that ran like a belt around my waist. "I approve."
I leered. "I thought you might." Tattoos faded and vanished with time, and I had a habit of acquiring them with each new country.
"You know," he murmured, sitting up until he could lick my neck. My eyes drifted shut and I tilted my head back to give him better access. "I've been thinking that we could use another room in the house."
My eyes flew open and I stared at him. "12 kids weren't enough, eh?" I asked with a smile. "I'm starting to think I'm just a baby maker for you."
He laughed. "Well, you're never more beautiful than when you're pregnant," he conceded, "and we haven't had one in almost a century."
He rolled us until he was on top. His body pressed me down into the mattress. I kissed his jaw. "We do make pretty babies. Plus, we've got enough scientists in the family. Maybe this one will be an artist or a writer. Really, we're doing the world a favor."
"I take philanthropy very seriously," he agreed, but his mouth was trailing down my neck to my breasts. I shivered in his arms.
Five centuries, and he could still set me on fire. Another five, and maybe we'd finally be able to keep our hands off each other for five minutes.
I very much doubted it.
A/N: Thanks for reading!