“I’m sure we can figure out a way to manage.” She looks at my mouth.
I hesitate. I didn’t start the kiss to seduce her. I don’t want to do anything until she’s fully recovered from her ordeal.
She undoes the sash around her waist and shrugs out of her robe. The sensational slopes and curves of her body leave me breathless. It doesn’t matter how many times I have her or how long I keep her wrapped in my arms. The impact of her femininity is like a nuke going off in the center of my chest.
But the bruises… They dampen what I feel. God. I feel like an ass with a capital A for lusting after my wife when she’s black and blue.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “I’m fine.”
I brush my thumb over a dark purple spot on
her hip, meditating on it. “It looks worse than it feels,” she says.
Somehow I manage to make my voice firm. “We shouldn’t.”
“But I want to. Sex is the only time you’re close to me.” Her words are soft, but they’re no less powerful for that.
Feeling as though I’ve been gutted, I carry her to bed. She shivers as though she can feel the weight of my gaze like a physical caress. The need to give her the closeness she craves is overwhelming—but it’s not as simple as inserting Tab A into Slot B. I want her to break me like she did before, when she took me lovingly into her mouth and shattered me inside out. And I want to break her the same way until I have all the pieces of her, every facet of her bared to me—body and soul.
To that end, I rein in the lust raging through me. I kiss her body—every curve, every inch of her sensitive skin—and breathe in her intoxicating scent. She’s so soft, so pliable as desire overwhelms her. Her face is flush with heat, and she begs, “Don’t do this…” Her raspy whisper comes to me as I run my mouth over the sweet skin along her inner thigh.
“You want me to stop?” I murmur, letting my hot breath brush the place my lips were just seconds ago.
She shakes her head. “Stop teasing. You know I’m wet.”
White-hot lust pounds in my veins. I can smell her most intimate parts like this, feel her quiver underneath me.
Even then, I maintain control. I use my hands and mouth to take her to the brink, only to pull back. Her voice breaks, but that’s not all I’m after.
She undulates under me. “Don’t you want me?” she whispers, her words barely audible. “Please…”
“How can you doubt it?”
I grind my hard dick against her wet pussy. My jaw clenches with the control I’m exerting over my body. She feels too damn fucking good, and it’s all I can do to not drive into her with all I’ve got. But a part of me tells me I can’t let this become just another episode of hot sex. It has to mean more…count for more, even though I’m incapable of figuring out what that “more” is at the moment.
My wife wants closeness. So I’m going to give it to her—sans consummation—even if it kills me.
But before I can pull away, she wraps her legs around me, tilts her pelvis just so and digs her heels into my back. She moves without giving me a second to retreat, and I glide right into her searing, wet core.
A small kernel of logic tries to tell me I shouldn’t, but the need overwhelms everything. My blood pulses in my veins, and I just…give up. “Tell me if I’m hurting you.”
She looks me dead in the eye. “The only way you can hurt me is by stopping.”
No cavalry would be able to drag me away now.
She’s so primed that it only takes a couple of powerful thrusts before she starts to climax, her pussy gripping my cock tightly. My eyes roll in my head, but I keep driving into her. Even my lust-addled brain can tell I’ve lost. But I’m not willing to go down like a man with no self-control. I maintain my pace, sinking all the way in every time.
She orgasms again, her wet hair spread around her thrashing head. Pleasure puts a rosy glow to her beautiful face, and my control slips as two tears leave the corners of her eyes.
When her pussy spasms around me, I lose it. I let go with a deep, guttural groan. I feel like I’m being ripped apart. It’s more than a god fucking amazing orgasm riding me, it’s like being swept out to sea.
Afterward I roll away so I don’t crush her, then pull her close so she lies with her side flush against mine. I stare at the ceiling as my breathing returns to normal, two thoughts sliding into my mind like razorblades.
First: It doesn’t matter what I’ve been telling myself. She’s got her hooks into me so deep that I don’t think I can ever be free of her. And I don’t want to be. I’ve never acknowledged the fact, but I do now.
Second: I know something’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. Elizabeth’s warning twists in my gut. I teased my wife mercilessly, gave her several orgasms that should have ripped her apart…but she didn’t say, “I love you.”
Chapter Twelve