Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Vikrant
‘Turn around,’ I ordered. ‘On your hands and knees.’ I leaned over her ear and said, ‘Please.’
Anika turned around, her hand sliding up to cup my nape, curving to fit all of her body under my body. A soft female I wanted to mark all over. Like that could claim her. Keep her here with me, always.
The knowledge of what awaited me in four days, made me rougher, slightly less caring as I wore the condom I bought in some vain luckless hope, six months ago, and positioned myself against her.
I wanted to fuck her, fuck her hard for the hurt she’d put me through. For being the only person to ever make me this mindless. This base.This possessive.
So, I did. I stroked into her roughly. And watched as her back splotched with heat. I did it again, moving in and out, our scents, our breaths the only things alive in the room.
Anika cried out when I went in the whole way the next time, a tight, snug fit that felt like heaven and hell. She was so wet; it was a separate feeling all on its own…to know she loved me like this. At my animal best.
***
I immediately slid out, appalled that I was getting off on having her submit to me.
But Anika took my dominance. She loved it. She owned it. And kissed the side of my chin. ‘God, more,’ she cried. ‘Please, don’t stop.’
I broke then.
I stopped trying to punish her. I leaned over her, enclosing her in my hold.
She rubbed her back, her ass against me, moving closer. Allowing me every single liberty I wanted to take. Soft in a way she hadn’t been even when we were married and fucking every single day.
But the real knowledge was this realization. She was the one who held me - heart, body, and soul. So, I loved her hard and fast and slow and soft and every way in between. Loved her like it was the only thing left of importance in this world.
In the end, when I climaxed, she was the one who said, ‘Look at me. Don’t look away.’
And I poured into her, my legs pistoning, my pelvis slapping against her hips, a warm Anika mold just for me.
I knew the ugly, sad truth as I came for her and into her.
I was hers. I would never look away from her.
It broke my heart in a permanent final way and made this loving so much more precious and meaningful.
***
After a few minutes of labored breathing, I untangled myself from Anika’s octopus limbs and grabbed the sheet from her. Then, I searched for my shorts and tugged them on with sweaty hands, leaving them unzipped. Cortisol and dopamine flooded my veins, making me feel the happiest and calm I had felt in a long, long time.
Then I shot one look at the love of my life. Her hair was tangled over her face, and she was a sweaty, disheveled mess.
She was fucking beautiful .
No…beauty is subjective, it is genetic too. Anika was magnificent. From the curves of her brown breasts visible over the sheet, to the shape of her leg sticking out from under the covers…the clench of her fingers as she rested…everything about her was magnificent.
I walked to the bathroom where I disposed the condom off by flushing it. I could not parade my sex life in front of every single family member over the age of sixty although Anika wouldn’t mind. And splashed some water on myself. Then I grabbed a washcloth, rinsed it in hot water and walked back out.
She’d moved into her customary fetal position, almost on the verge of dropping off. Her cute butt was sticking out in the air, making me get all sorts of ideas of biting it. Marking it. Marking her.
I gently moved the cover aside and dabbed at her thighs and back. I found my marks on her back, splotched and raised. I wasn’t necessarily rough with her, but things were decidedly kinky between us this time. She moved into my touch when I ran a finger over the middle of her back.
‘Mmmm, that feels good,’ she murmured.
‘I should have been more careful.’
‘Why?’ Anika opened her golden eyes, and they truly were, you know. There was a glow to them.
The romance books would describe it as afterglow languor. I wondered if her pupils were blown, and she needed medical help. It didn’t seem like it, but sex was a vigorous activity.
I finished cleaning her up and patted her thigh one last time. Lingering on the soft skin. Content to sit next to her and touch her, because she let me.
‘Because you’re soft and you bruise easily.’ I poked at my finger mark on her hip. ‘I don’t like seeing it.’
‘What about what I want?’ She ran a toe over my thigh. ‘And just because I’m soft and I bruise doesn’t mean I’m hurt, Vikrant.’
‘Yes, but—'
‘I’m not the princess, Vikrant,’ she said softly. ‘And I appreciate all this care you’re giving me.’ She sniffed a little and her luminous eyes shone. ‘But it’s entirely not required if you’re doing it out of guilt.’
I’m doing it because I still love you.
‘It’s not guilt.’
‘Then what? Her lips quirked up. ‘Good manners? Give a woman the best orgasms that melts her bones and then clean her up?’
‘Being a gentleman is not a bad thing.’ I clenched the towel in my hand.
We’d had this debate before too. She thought I was too nice, too decent, not alpha enough. But I am just me, no matter how hard I fucked her.
‘I want to take care of you, Anika.’
Instead of replying, she crawled into my lap. The covers pooling around us. And tossed her hair back, so it flowed over my hand where I clutched her back. holding her to me.
‘Maybe I wouldn’t have signed those papers if I knew you had an animal in you, Vik.’ She played with my hair, running questing fingers through it, prickling my scalp. ‘Maybe I’d have fought harder to keep you. In bed.’
And I dropped my forehead to hers. Breathed us in – all the pheromones and sexual tension. ‘Don’t tease me,’ I muttered.
‘I wasn’t teasing. You don’t have to be careful with me. I can take whatever you give me. The good and the bad and the…’ She bit my ear. And sucked on it so hard I surged into her a little. ‘Fucking sexy.’
‘I…’ The words were on the tip of my tongue. Love you. Need you. Want you to never leave this bed and me.
But Anika pushed me on the bed and shoved my shorts away in a swift motion. Then she kneeled down in front of me, depressing the mattress around her.
‘What are you doing?’ I looked at her, looking at me. All hard and ready for her. Because eleven months of deprivation and masturbation made me horny for her. All. The. Time.
She licked her lips and cupped me in that way only she had. ‘Taking care of you, baby.’
I closed my eyes and allowed her to do exactly that. Because we were equal partners. We could both take turns taking care of the other.