9. Winnie
9
WINNIE
“ J ohnny.” My nerves ratcheted up another notch on the way over here. He kept his hand in mine or would cup the inside of my thigh. This morning, when I got dressed for the park, I didn’t think the day would turn into going home with my husband. The two-sizes-too-big shirt and shorts are no match for the warmth of his touch, how he maneuvers his vehicle with smoothness and control I could never exude. It was almost too much, the skin-on-skin contact, the way his fingers pressed into my flesh. I had to look away in order to keep myself contained.
Now we’re in his penthouse apartment, well, technically, it’s still ours, and I’m taken aback. Everything is the same—the wall color, the furniture, the décor. The only thing that’s changed is that my clothes and toiletries aren’t here. Johnny’s spicy, woodsy scent permeates the air. It’s not just on his skin; it surrounds every sense I have.
“Made a lot of mistakes. When you took off, disconnected your phone, all I did was work. That happened for a year and a half straight. Between the club and Jagged Edge, I kept busy. By the time I pulled my head out of my ass after Mom handed it to me like she does so well, the last thing I wanted was to erase you. You’re my wife, mi esposa. Mia.” He’s standing ten feet away, hands in his pockets and waiting me out as I walk through our home. I land near the doors leading to the outdoor balcony. The flowers I planted have long since died. Now the planters are empty. We may not have had a house with a yard or flowerbeds, but I made the outside an oasis. Flowers spilling out of pots, other plants thick and lush, and when I went outdoors to do my thing, it was my happy place. Of course, Johnny would shake his head and tease me when I’d make him go to the nursery with me, but he’d lug everything from the car to the elevator and from there to the balcony without a single complaint.
“I want what we had back, but I’m scared I ruined us.” I turn around, no longer able to give him my back as I lay my vulnerability at his feet. I have no right to utter those words, not until after we’ve talked and I’ve laid myself bare, except when you have this much chemistry and this much love between you and another soul, it’s hard to keep your hopes and desires at bay.
“Standing right here, carino.” Johnny might be standing only feet away, yet it feels like there’s an ocean between us. I do the least likely me thing there is to do: I run at full force, jump up, and land in his arms. He’s willing and ready for me. His mouth attaches to mine, and my ankles clasp around one another at the top of his ass, feeling him, all of him, in that delicious way. His cock is thick and hard, and my core weeps with wanting to feel more. My arm loops over his shoulder, holding on, and my other hand goes to the back of his head, fingers sliding through his dark waves.
Johnny has me, he has all of me, and while we’ve made mistakes in the past, this isn’t one of them. He laps at my lips, gaining entrance when I let out a moan, and his dominance takes over. His hands press into the flesh of my ass. Each small movement he makes has me riding the long ridge of his dick. The pressure between us even in his jeans and my cotton shorts does nothing to hide our need.
“More.” I rip my lips away from his, needing a moment to get myself together. I’m already close, ridiculously close, and he’s barely touched me. Johnny takes a step, making it harder to focus on anything except falling apart. “I’m right there, baby.” My head that was tipping backwards is brought back to eye level. I may have lost his hand on my ass, except I gained more. He slides his palm beneath my shirt, skating it all the way up until his fingers are at the nape of my neck. Johnny brings my mouth back to his, and we’re once again kissing. He nibbles at my lower lip at first, and I know what he’s doing. He’s testing to see if I still like what I once did. I don’t just like it, I love it. When he lets go and deepens the kiss by sliding his tongue inside, he groans as I arch my body while he moves us further into the living room. My eyes go from open to closed, allowing the feeling of having my husband in my arms again to penetrate my senses.
“Damn, you taste good. Been too damn long, Winn.” His usual strong and steady voice comes out deep and growly. I’m affecting him as much as he is me. Then my back meets the couch.
“So long, Johnny.” My chest heaves. I’m riddled with desire, begging for more and praying he’ll deliver. He falls down with me. I’m lying parallel on the low profile of the armrest, making it the perfect height for Johnny to wedge himself between my spread legs.
“You good with where this is going?” he asks in between the kisses he’s trailing along my neck.
“Hold on.” Johnny pulls back immediately. I can see the look of disappointment, and believe me, the feeling is mutual. My own body is ready to kick its own ass with delaying the gratification only Johnny can give me.
“Mierda.” Shit , he groans, dropping his forehead to mine. His gaze is unwavering as he waits me out.
“I’m a willing participant in this, and I want you, Johnny, believe me, more than ever, but I didn’t stop to think about your feelings. I basically jumped your bones and glued myself to you.”
“Not a chance in hell I want to stop. Don’t want you to stop, either.” He grinds his hips, dragging himself along my heated core. My eyes roll back in my head, unable to keep them on his when he lights my body up. His hands travel to my ass, pulling me up to meet him, and he says, “Love everything about you. Did back then and do now, but it’s not lost on me you’ve dropped a shit ton of weight. I’m going to enjoy feeding you, getting those curves back on your body and feeding my wife more than just my cock.” Johnny lifts himself away from me. I lament losing him until I realize what he’s doing. He reaches behind his back, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling it up and over his head. All of the air leaves me. Responding to him becomes impossible. Apparently, working out more became part of his routine, too, whereas before he’d hit the gym two or three times a week, giving him a lean but muscular build. Now, he’s thicker and cut, plus there are more tattoos that weren’t there before.
“You hear what I’m saying, mi esposa?” My mouth waters as he flicks open the button to his jeans, the rasp of his zipper, and that’s when I see his cock. The head slips out. The dotting of precum coats the flared mushroom-shaped tip. I lift up on my elbows, watching as he discards the rest of his clothes, shoes, socks, and finally his jeans.
“What did you say?” I ask, my mind blank as I stare at the beauty that is Johnathan Gonzales. His hair is messy from my hands, his lips are bruised from kissing me, his eyes are glazed with hunger, and the way he’s standing is nothing short of fucking hot as hell. Johnny’s muscles flex, his jaw tightens, and his gaze follows my tongue as I sweep it across my lips.
“Love your body no matter what, but you losing weight stops now.” He moves closer, each movement making me take him in whole. Focusing on one area of Johnny isn’t possible.
“Okay. I mean, a week in your mom’s presence with her cooking, and my boobs, butt, and stomach will be back in no time.” I’m not what you would call a cook; I can do in a pinch and if I really pay attention. I didn’t have the time or the patience in the last six months to a year. Melanie getting worse and worse meant I had to be fast on my feet. Work, Sebastian, and my sister were first and foremost. Food came dead last.
“Good.” Johnny moves back to the fold of my body, the tips of his fingers trailing up the top of my thighs, making me tremble with each inch he travels. I scoot myself closer to him, trying to hurry his pace along. “Not rushing this.” He reads me like a book. Anytime we’re together in instances like this, I’m always trying to get what I want. He used to say I’m trying to top from the bottom; whatever, he acted like he didn’t like it.
“Johnny.” He didn’t say I couldn’t help; I drop back down until I’m flat on my back, hands going to the tops of my shorts. With the amount of weight I’ve dropped, and the bills that kept piling in, there was no way I could keep up with clothes for myself or Sebastian. When Melanie had good days, she’d help out, but when the call for her addiction was too strong, talking about anything became an argument. So, I did what I could, went to a big box store or a second-hand store, bought clothes for Sebastian and me at a discounted rate, and made sure they were stretchy to keep life simple.
“Hijo de puta.” Son of a bitch , he says, stopping his forward motion when I push my shorts and panties down together. They clear my pussy, and that’s all it takes to spur Johnny into action. His hands knock mine away, and he finishes clearing them off my body. He spreads my thighs open, drops his head, and his tongue flicks along my clit. My shirt is long forgotten by the man currently licking every drop coming from my body. I take it from there. My shirt is over my head in a few deft movements, I flick the clasp of my bra that’s settles between my breasts, and finally, I’m fully naked.
“Johnny.” He groans against my heated flesh. The sensation carries through me, and I’m lost to how he’s working me up. His tongue swirls around my clit, and he places a kiss there when he’s done and moves away from where I was on the edge of coming. “What? Why?” I ask. My eyes that were screwed shut pop open, and I’m not ashamed that there’s a whining to my tone.
“Only getting started. Starting from the top and working my way down. Your scent sidetracked me. Seeing you naked for the first time in for-fucking-ever went straight to my head like a shot of whisky,” Johnny admits, sliding up until we’re face to face. He dips his head, and his mouth touches mine. I taste myself on him, and I’m once again being worked up. My legs wrap around his waist, my arms lifting and hands digging into his shoulders, using him for purchase in order to arch into his touch as his tongue slides inside, tangling with mine. The thick vein on the underside of his cock, thick and full, drags along my slit, causing me to lock myself right where I am.
“No, no, no,” I murmur, chasing his lips. Johnny has other ideas. Him pulling away from me for the second time today is enough to make me pout.
“Mi esposa,” he grunts, still rocking his hips against my pussy while his lips move to the side of my jaw, trailing down the slope of my neck, and I relish in the sensation of the light abrasion from the growth of his five-o’clock shadow.
“Mi esposo,” I reply, calling him my husband.
“Mierda, missed hearing you say that, missed you like this, bare and ready for me, missed you in this house. Plain fucking missed you, Winn.” He lifts his head, eyes searching mine, and when I give him the look he was searching for, that’s when his lips wrap around my nipple. His hand moves from the couch, and he cups my breast, giving it the right amount of pressure while his teeth bite down on my nipple.
“More. Please, Johnny, more.” My head moves side to side, my ankles lock around his waist, and my thighs clench with the need to get off by any means necessary. At this point, if he so much as breathed along my clit, I’d probably come.
“Patience, corazón, patience.” Pure Johnny, calling me sweetheart as he sucks on my nipple one last time while he pulls on the other. When he moves from one to the next, the cool air ripples across my wet skin. Johnny repeats the process. My hand moves to the back of his head, trying to keep him there as long as possible, but in doing so, it’s nearly impossible to maneuver his cock inside of me.
“Patience is not a virtue right now,” I groan as he pulls my nipple deeper, the roughness of his teeth along the tip, and when he flattens it with the rough of his mouth, while his thumb and pointer finger twist the other, I’m delirious with the pleasure at the slight pain he brings me. I can feel myself starting to reach for the orgasm that’s been so out of reach. The way he’s working my breasts, it won’t take much more, and I’ll be soaring.
“Hmm,” he mumbles. The popping sound as he lets go of my nipple echoes through the house. “You’re right it hasn’t, but you’re not getting my cock until you come with my mouth on your cunt.” He slides down my abdomen; his own is coated with my wetness. My legs loosen their hold around his waist, and Johnny’s hands grasp the back of my thighs, lifting them up as he drops to his knees. My head is lower than the rest of my body, ass hitting the armrest, and I’m aware of the fact that Johnny is in control here.
“Look at you, all wet and ready for me. Gonna fuckin’ feast on you, mi esposa.” I try to watch what he does, except the minute I feel his heated breath skate over me, my eyes close, and I’m lost to everything that is Johnny. The tips of his fingers dig into the cheeks of my ass, sliding dangerously close to back there, making me yearn for the feel of him everywhere. My ass, my pussy, my mouth, I want it all. I’m greedy, a quivering mess of desire, and when he finally gets to work, it’s with a precision only he’s mastered on me. His tongue slides from one side to the next. Every drop of wetness is lapped up, not a drip wasted, and I’m sure his chin will be coated by the time he’s done. I know that when he gets there, I won’t be able to hold back. I feel a finger press inside, followed by a second. He hooks upward, moving his fingers up and down while wrapping his mouth around my clit, sucking on it like he did my nipples. My back arches upward, my hands move, one to my breast, the other to the back of his head, holding him, and the only reason the heels of my feet aren’t digging into his back is because he holds me in such a way I can hardly move.
“Johnny, Johnny, Johnny,” I chant his name over and over again. His teeth scrape over my clit before going back to taking strong pulls. His fingers work faster and harder. When he groans, deep and loud, I’m fucking gone. My eyes slam shut, and it’s as if the thunderstorm is a maelstrom of wind and rain, bolts of lightning slash across the dark sky behind them, and I’m caught in the middle. He keeps finger-fucking me through it, hitting my G-spot. I feel one hand leave my ass and moving to my lower abdomen, pressing down and stretching my orgasm out, making it stronger than what I’ve felt in years. No one, not myself or any other person, could ever compare to how my husband makes me feel.
“Hijo de puta, I love the taste of you,” Johnny says from his place between my legs. I’m a boneless heap. My eyes flutter open, and the look on his face says it all: He’s so damn proud for getting me off that fast. We probably set a world record.
“I love the way you taste me.” He more than likes my words judging by the look he gives me, and we’re just getting started.