Chapter 32 Angel
Angel
“Do you really want the water hot enough to boil our skin off?” I asked as I leaned into the shower.
Emma was standing on the white rug, ruining it with the bits of swamp that were dripping off of her body.
She truly was coated in mud: I should have sent her upstairs before now, but I hadn’t been capable of being more than a few feet from her.
Now that things were settled, we could take our time with one another, and I certainly planned to.
“Please,” she said. “I will never feel clean again unless a layer of skin comes off with the mud.”
I said a private sorry to my skin: I was more of a lukewarm shower person. If the water was too hot, I would get itchy as soon as I dried off. “Whatever mi esposa wants, she gets.”
Emma giggled. It was a little hysterical; she needed to be put to bed soon before she truly succumbed to the shock that was no doubt eating at her. “You’re spoiling me,” she said.
I drew her into the shower and tried to hide the hiss as the lava water hit my back. “If a hot shower is spoiling you, I’ll have to try a little harder next time,” I said and flipped us around so that she was right under the spray. Unlike my yelp of pain, Emma sighed, and I saw her shoulders relax.
“That feels so nice,” she moaned, and despite the oppressive, stinging heat, I was getting hard. It should be illegal for her to make that noise unless it was because I was touching her.
Together, for the next ten minutes, we scrubbed her skin and hair clean of the mud.
The scratches on her arms were a little inflamed, and when we got out of the shower, I would need to put some antibacterial cream on them.
If they didn’t look better tomorrow, I would call the doctor and see what she could take while she was pregnant.
The layer of muck had finally fallen away to reveal my wife, whose skin was a bright pink from the scrubbing and the heat of the water. “Are you done?” I asked.
She pouted but, ultimately, agreed. I turned off the spray and reached out into the chill of the bathroom to grab our towels.
I gently dried her off, patting the water from her skin, before roughly doing the same to myself.
“You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves,” she said. “I want you to be you.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry for treating you like you’re fragile, but I know I have a lot to make up for. I haven’t treated you right.”
She eyed me, unreadable, until I cupped her face and brought my mouth to hers. She sighed, and I slipped my tongue inside, dancing mine with hers and finding all of her most sensitive spots that made her whine and clutch at me.
I picked her up by the back of her thighs, encouraging her to wrap her legs around my hips, and I walked her back to our bedroom. We left our dirty clothes in the bathroom — I would handle it in the morning. For now, all I cared about was the woman in my arms.
I put her down on the bed. “Lie back, mi esposa,” I said before I lay on the bed, working my shoulders between her thighs so that she was open for me.
Her breath caught in her throat when I leaned down to lick at her. She wasn’t quite worked up yet, so I coaxed her to wetness by alternating circling her clit with the tip of my tongue and dipping down into her pussy, kissing her there the way I kissed her mouth.
“Angel,” Emma sighed. Her thighs clamped around my ears; her fingers found my hair, and she tugged, begging with the abortive thrusts of her hips to speed things up. But I didn’t want to; I was having too much fun gently leading her to pleasure instead of tossing her head first into the deep end.
When her cries were bordering on desperate, I pushed two fingers inside her at once, and she moaned brokenly at being suddenly stretched full.
She was close; I could tell. “I can feel you quivering all around me,” I said, face still buried against her.
“What do I need to do, huh? To get you to let go? I want to feel you come on my tongue. It’s been way too long. ”
I crooked my fingers and brushed over that spot that made her back lock up.
I played over it with my fingers and sucked at her.
I listened to her soft oh, oh, oh! get louder and louder until she shattered beneath me.
Her inner muscles tightened and spasmed around my fingers and tongue.
I rubbed myself against the bed to relieve some of the aching in my own groin.
Tonight is not about you, I reminded myself.
“That feel good, mi esposa?” I asked as I gently pulled away. “You think you can sleep now? I know you’re exhausted.”
Emma frowned and pushed herself up on her elbows. “Are you trying to not have sex with me?”
It was my turn to frown. “We literally just had sex. You just came!”
“But you didn’t,” she pointed out, “and I’m not tired enough to ignore the hot, naked man in my bed.”
I winked at her. “You think I’m hot, do you?”
“Is that the only thing that you heard out of all that?” she snapped.
I leaned up and kissed her. “No,” I said against her mouth, “it wasn’t the only thing, but it was the first time you ever talked about how attractive you think I am. Excuse me for being excited.”
Emma deflated a little. “Oh,” she said, “well…” She blushed. “I do find you attractive. More than attractive, really.”
“What’s more than attractive?” I asked.
She shrugged. “You,” she said. “You’re so handsome sometimes it hurts to look at you.”
I kissed her again before she could say anything else to drive me crazy and pushed her flat on her back again. I wedged myself between her thighs and hitched one of her legs over my shoulder. Meeting her eyes, we stayed staring at one another while I seated myself inside of her.
Her eyes widened a little as I thrust home, and a whine eked from her throat.
She cupped the back of my neck and pulled me down for a kiss.
I loved kissing her; if I knew how much I would love feeling her mouth against mine, I would have tried harder to woo her.
We shared the deep, drugging kisses that made my head spin as I moved in her, slow but deep, dragging myself through her snug heat.
She deserved lovemaking tonight; we’d never done it like that before, slow and tender, and she should get to know what it feels like.
Emma bucked her hips up against mine, keening. “Faster,” she pleaded. “Go faster.” I shushed her, content to keep things languid. Everything felt good; my whole body hummed with it, but I wanted to enjoy the connection that we shared.
After a few more minutes, though, she became frustrated and pushed at my shoulder. “Off,” she said, “Off!”
It physically hurt to pull myself from her, but I did and sat back on my heels. “What’s wrong?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said. “It’s like you’re afraid to touch me tonight.”
She had it all wrong. “I planned to be gentle with you tonight,” I said.
Irritation and fondness warred on her face. “I like how you are with me in bed,” she said. “I don’t want that to change because we finally told each other how we feel.”
“Shouldn’t you want me to be gentle with you sometimes?” I asked.
Emma shrugged. “You are,” she said, “but this isn’t gentle, it’s torture.”
“You’re being melodramatic.”
She raised her eyebrow. “You think so?” Sitting up, she motioned for me to trade places with her, so we switched. Emma pushed on my chest until I was laid out like she had been.
Meeting my eyes, Emma leaned down and took me in her mouth. “Holy fuck,” I groaned and clutched the blankets beneath me in an effort not to twine my fingers through her hair. Pleasure licked up my spine as she bobbed her head, taking more of me inside.
And then she was pulling away and wrapping her hand around me, but her grip wasn’t nearly as tight as I needed it to be. She touched me gently, running her palm up and down in a way that made me shake, but it quickly grew frustrating. “Okay,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Okay, I get your point.”
Emma smirked, and it was downright evil. I shivered. “Do you?” she asked so innocently that it set my teeth on edge. “Are you sure?” Then she leaned in and swallowed me down again, not stopping until her gag reflex physically stopped her.
“Emma, shit!” My back tried to lock up with how much I wanted to thrust into that welcoming heat. She licked beneath my crown, finding all of my most sensitive spots with her tongue, and just as pleasure was starting to truly build into something, she pulled back.
Frankly, I’d had enough.
I sat up, grabbed her, and rolled us so that she was back on the bed. I grabbed beneath her knees and pushed myself back inside her; we both groaned. The bedroom filled with the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and her cries. “Is this better, mi esposa?” I demanded as I fucked into her.
Emma clutched at me. “Yes,” she cried out. “Oh my God, yes.”
It was better. Our bodies were meant to crash into one another like this; we weren’t gentle in our lives, so why would our love ever be gentle? I was getting close, but I needed Emma to come again before I could let myself go.
I reached between us and thumbed her clit, circling it in time to my thrusts, and she practically howled in pleasure.
Her nails bit into my skin, and it only drove me on faster.
“Angel, I’m —” Her back arched as she rode the pleasure high, and I groaned against her collarbone, mouthing at it, as I found my own end.
I laid against her, panting, and she held me, petting at my back. “I love you,” she said.
I would never tire of hearing her say that, just like I wouldn’t ever tire of saying it. “I love you too, mi esposa.”