Chapter 3 #2
My life has been nothing but go, go, go since I signed with the Niners. The intense training and practice wore me completely out. Then with all the planning of the trip and wedding, the packing, and the long flight, we’d both collapsed into bed the first night we got to the island.
The emotional sunset ceremony on the beach, the realization that this was it, we were officially married, revved up my energy level big-time. It seemed to do the same for her, because holy hell, we were crazed for each other.
Our connection was stronger than ever. Last night, the sex had been ferocious, intense, all-consuming. I feel that way every time I see her, touch Fable, kiss her.
I should be exhausted but I’m not. My body is on high alert, my skin so tight and hot I feel like I’m going to burst as I let my gaze rove over my new wife’s sexy-as-hell body. Damn, she’s beautiful. Will I ever grow tired of looking at her? Touching her? Kissing her? Fucking her?
No. Never.
“Come here, Drew,” she says, her voice a husky whisper, and I crawl up the bed, crawl up over her.
She spreads her legs and I settle in between them, my hips nudging against hers, my insistent cock rubbing her soft belly.
She slips her arms around my neck as I bend my head to kiss her, drink from her lips, taste her tongue.
Her hands bury in my hair as I break away from her to trail kisses down the length of her neck, her collarbone, her chest, the tops of her breasts.
I can feel the slight tremble run beneath her skin, feel her racing heart as I kiss a path down the fragrant valley between her breasts. Her fingers curl in my hair when I lick her nipple. Those same fingers pull hard when I suck her nipple between my lips.
God, she tastes amazing. Her legs curl around my hips, her feet slide along my legs, and I want inside her. Now.
But I also want to make it good for her and draw this out. So I do.
“Drew.” She whispers my name but I ignore her, continue my path with my lips along her skin.
I kiss her stomach, lick her belly button, and make her giggle.
The heat between her legs radiates toward me, drawing me closer, drawing me in, and I shift down, my head between her legs, a little chuckle escaping me when she spreads them at the perfectly precise moment.
Resting my hands on the inside of her thighs, I spread her wider, then bend down, planting a chaste kiss on the center of her. Another giggle escapes her and she pulls my hair, then pushes my head.
Down.
“You want this? You want me to make you come?” I ask because I’m feeling evil, still wanting to draw this out.
“Yes,” she breathes with a little nod, her gaze meeting mine. Those pretty green eyes are wide and fathomless, seeing everything, all of me, and not shying away. Not running away, either.
I’m a lucky son of a bitch to have found her. A smart one, too, since I just made her mine in the most legal sense.
Without another word, I lean in and devour her. Search her pink folds with my lips and tongue, suck her, lick her, slide a finger inside of her, then another, fucking her with my mouth and fingers until she’s a writhing mess, my name falling from her lips when the orgasm slams into her.
Her body quivers beneath my lips, around my fingers, and then I’m pulling away from her, settling on my knees before her as I curl my hand around my cock and guide myself inside her still pulsating body.
She stiffens beneath me, still so overcome with her orgasm I don’t think she realized I was about to enter her until it was too late.
But she’s not protesting. Her softening, welcoming body accepts me readily and I slide deep, as deep as I can get, pausing above her so I can stare down at her flushed face.
Her eyes slowly open and she stares up at me for a long, quiet moment.
I don’t move, don’t dare make a sound, just savor the feeling of being buried deep inside my wife, the two of us now one.
Complete.
Turning her head, she kisses my wrist. My hands are planted on either side of her head, my arms stiff, my muscles quaking.
It’s taking everything within me to hold back, restrain myself.
All I want to do is thrust again and again.
Fuck her straight into the mattress until she’s gasping and screaming my name, our sweaty bodies clinging to each other until we finally come down from our high.
“Harder,” she urges as if she can read my mind and yet again, I’m pretty sure she probably can.
I feel like I can read hers, too. It’s damn scary.
It’s also comforting, to know you have that other person out there who’s just for you.
Before meeting Fable I’d been suffocating with loneliness, not really living, just going through the motions.
I didn’t believe I deserved anyone. I felt incomplete.
A piece of me was missing all those years, especially the last few before I found her.
And I quickly realized she was that missing piece, the one that fit me so perfectly, I’d have to be a fool to let her go. Which I did. I ran away like an idiot and then found her again by pure dumb luck, or fate, or whatever you want to believe.
It doesn’t really matter, because now we’re together and nothing can stop us.
Our biggest obstacles are past us. We can move on and forge a life together.
It might be a little rough while we live separately during the regular season, but we’ll see each other as much as we can.
Besides, it’s only for a couple of months.
And then it’s only a couple of years until Owen graduates high school.
What’s the worst that can happen?