Chapter 30
[Bolan]
Getting home late the next night and actually seeing Ruthie standing in the kitchen is the visual reassurance I hadn’t known I needed. Like that night of watching each other had been a dream, and not reality. Like Ruthie was more a mirage than something physical in our duplex.
“You waited up,” I whisper as I crest the top of the entry stairs and see Ruthie leaning against the peninsula island.
Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head.
Glasses on. One foot on top of the other in that way she stands.
She reminds me a little of a flamingo, but she’ll always be a flower to me.
Slowly, she smiles while I drop my bag and close the distance between us. She steps away from the counter and falls against the refrigerator opposite the peninsula as I rush to stand right in front of her. Bracing my forearm on the cool surface of the appliance beside her head, I lean over her.
“Hi.” I smile back, taking in her face. Those deep eyes. The swell of her lips. The slope of her nose. I don’t even know where to start. I want to kiss her everywhere.
“Hi.” She giggles, and I further lean forward, kissing her softly at first.
“Welcome home,” I murmur to the corner of her mouth, although she’s been here for three days.
“Same to you.” She smiles again and I capture her lips, kissing her more soundly this time until she squeaks and presses into me. She breaks the kiss and glances over her shoulder where a stream of water dribbles from the water dispenser on the refrigerator door.
Ruthie swipes at her backside. “You got me all wet.”
I chuckle. “That’s exactly what I like to hear.” I bend my knees to wrap my arms around her ass and lift her. Her hands land on my shoulders, and she spreads her legs around my hips while I spin us to set her on the peninsula countertop.
My lips travel along her jaw to her neck where I drag my teeth over her flesh. She shivers before she runs her hands over my shoulders around to my back, pulling me closer to her. I slip my hands underneath the hem of the cropped sweatshirt she’s wearing.
“Your skin is so soft,” I mutter to her shoulder, pushing the loose fit collar over the curve and down her arm.
Ruthie hums as I slip my hands further underneath the sweatshirt until I hit the underside of her breasts. No bra.
“Flower,” I groan as she arches forward, inviting me to continue my exploration. I cover each of her breasts with a greedy palm and squeeze, tugging at the tender swells and pinching her nipples in tandem.
Ruthie gasps and I swallow the sound, needing to breathe her in. Like I’ve told her before, she feels like the first solid breath I’ve taken in years.
I slide my hands around her sides and cup her ass next, where one cheek is damp from the water dispenser.
Tugging her to the edge of the countertop, I line us up.
My hard cock to her soft center, covered in baggy shorts.
Massaging down her thighs, I stroke over her knees before breaking the kiss to glance down to where we meet in the middle.
“I want to touch you,” I groan.
With her arms loosely around my neck, she purrs, “Yes.”
I skim her inner thigh again and sweep into the edge of those loose shorts, finding her wet in other places. Quickly, I push aside her underwear and slip one thick finger into her heat. Home.
Clinging to my neck, Ruthie whimpers as her head tips back.
“I remember touching you like this on that banquet table,” I murmur as I run my nose along the column of her throat, inhaling her floral and spice scent. “I wanted to devour you that night.”
Ruthie hums. “As I remember it . . . you did.” Pleasure fills her voice, the memory fond for both of us.
With my free hand, I gently press her backward, breaking her hold on my neck.
This kitchen counter looks like another perfect place to savor her.
Swiftly, I remove her shorts and underwear, lifting her heels for the edge of the counter, and staring down at my feast. The swollen lips.
The pink flesh. She’s a flower eager to bloom and I don’t plan to disappoint her.
Seeing her in person is so much better than the other night.
With my head between her spread knees, Ruthie whimpers as I slice my tongue through her seam, dipping into her creamy center and savoring her essence.
Her hands come to the back of my head, running her fingernails over my scalp which causes me to shiver.
However, nothing deters me from bringing her to the brink and then tipping her over the edge.
A line drive to center and a base stolen.
She’s so beautiful, all spread out on the counter, panting my name, and taking what she needs from me.
While I hadn’t planned our night to go this way quite so quickly, a homerun is my greatest desire, but I won’t push her. There are so many other things I can do to please her.
With a kiss on her inner thigh, I tug her upward and into my arms again. She wraps her arms around my neck once more. Her legs around my hips.
“Where are we going?” Her voice is quiet, sated and soft.
“I’m going to carry you over the threshold.”
“You’re going to take me down the stairs and outside, like this?” She pulls back to see my face. Her mouth gapes.
I chuckle. “How about if I take you upstairs and carry you over the threshold of our room.” Because this is our home and after losing nights with Ruthie, I’ve decided I don’t want to spend the nights we have together without her in our bed.
There’s no pressure to do more than kiss her breathless and then hold her all night long. But when I set her down, I slip my hands underneath her cropped sweatshirt and guide it over her head. “I just want to look at you.”
I want to see her, in the flesh, spread out and naked on this bed, solidifying the vision in my head. A photograph etched in my brain forever.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper, looking her directly in the eyes while running my fingertip over the peak of one breast, around the tip of her taut nipple, and down the other side.
I drop our locked gaze as I coast my hand between her breasts before laying my palm over her belly, pausing above that soft mound of hair at the top of her legs. “I don’t think I’ve ever missed anyone the way I’ve missed you.”
The ache for her isn’t just about her body, though. I’ve missed her presence. Her laughter with Tulane. Her smiles at me.
Ruthie softly gasps before cupping the side of my face. Her thumb strokes over my jaw which is in need of a shave. “I missed you, too. More than I can explain.”
Her brows pinch like she’s puzzled by how she missed me, but I don’t need her to explain herself. Tonight, I just want to worship her body, and I continue my intentions by slipping my finger into her warm center while we stand toe to toe.
Ruthie moans and slides her hand over the front of my pants. The heat of her hand seeps through the thin material as she gently squeezes where I’m stiff and desperate for her.
“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”
I blink in the dark room as my wife turns into a vixen, dropping to her knees and fumbling with the removal of my pants. Hastily, I remove my shirt, wanting to be as naked as she is. Free to any exploration she wants to take with my body.
Ruthie wraps her delicate fingers around my hard cock, and I hiss at the sizzle of contact. God, have I missed her. It’s been a week without her. Three weeks without her touch. More than a month since I’ve entered her.
When her mouth surrounds me, I swear I see heaven.
After only one long suck up my length, I’m tugging free of those sultry lips and hoisting her upward, tossing her onto the bed. Ruthie scrambles backward and I follow her retreat over the blankets and up to the pillows, wedging my large body between her legs.
“I just want to feel you against me.” Her heat.
Her skin. I hold my dick, placing the tip at her entrance, and sliding the head through her slick folds.
There’s no pressure to do more. I could naked-cuddle this woman and be happy.
Kiss her all night and be happy. Be in her presence and simply be happy.
But we both groan at the electric connection between us.
With strength I didn’t expect her to have, Ruthie presses at my chest, forcing me to my back and sliding over me, straddling my lap.
At the contact, I hiss again. The pleasurable crackle of her wet heat against my hard cock is a welcome spark.
She glides up my length, coating me in her creamy essence until she notches on my tip.
Back and forth she moves, grinding against me, and my hands land on her hips, guiding her along my dick from head to balls.
“Ruthie,” I groan, keeping the pace at her speed.
“I want more.”
My eyes ping open, staring up at her face above mine, reading her desire for me. Fuck, I want to give her everything.
Reaching for her hair, I tug at the elastic holding up her messy bun, freeing her hair to hang down in a lush curtain over her shoulders and around her cheeks.
Taking a second to admire how beautiful she looks over me.
Her eyes sparkling. Her mouth gaping. Then, I roll us again, flipping her to her back.
My dick is so hard, weeping and begging, to be enveloped in her warmth, but I don’t want to pressure her.
However, because I’m reactive instead of reflective, I blurt, “I want to give you a baby.”
She stiffens beneath me. “What?”
I realize a little too late that I’ve said too much too fast. My damn brain, which can be slow to chug, picked up speed, and barreled forward like a runaway freight train, and I can’t seem to stop myself.
“I want to give you what you want most. Let me be the one to do that for you. Let me make a baby with you.”
Although we’ve discussed Tulane, and I’m thrilled to consider Ruthie her mother, I want to give Ruthie something else she’s wanted. Another baby. A houseful of babies.