An Improper Ever After(29)

"How can you say you love me and not make yourself even the slightest bit vulnerable to me?" The question rasps out before I can stop myself.




 

 

She blinks a couple of times, then looks away.

The evasion cuts, but it doesn't just hurt. It infuriates.

I lift her head back to me, but Belle is nothing if not stubborn. She gazes at the tip of my nose, pointedly avoiding my eyes. Her mouth is set tight, her lips almost bloodless. She'll stay like this forever if that's what it takes. I recognize that as the seconds pile up.

Hell if I'll let her.

I slant my head, covering her lips with mine. No matter what, she's always been honest in bed. And this time is no exception.

She kisses me back, her teeth and tongue rough-almost punishing, as though she blames me for all the shit that's gone wrong since we met. I don't give a fuck when she cuts the inside of my lower lip. This is far better than her silent, mutinous retreat moments ago.

I lick her lips and rub my tongue against hers. Her velvet softness stokes my suddenly raging need. Her shallow, choppy breathing tells me she is into it as much as I am. I thank my lucky stars that she's this hot and passionate. Her past …  God, her past would be enough to kill this part of her if she let it.

Her fingers dig into my hair, nails scraping my scalp and pulling at the strands until it hurts, but I don't care. I let out a triumphant growl, yank at the damp towel wrapped around her head and fling it away. Her hair falls in a loose wet coil, and I wrap my hand in it, anchoring her. She slides down her chair, and I take her in my arms, pulling her until she's sitting in my lap, her sweet ass over my very ready dick.

Still, I pull back with a superhuman effort.

"Don't," she whispers harshly.

"Belle … you're injured."

"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.