Chapter 57
James
I can’t believe I let her choose The Notebook and I watched it with her too.
I also held her as she sobbed through the ending. I confess, I was surprised to find a ball of emotion in my throat. Not that I’d ever admit that to her.
She then insisted I pick a movie.
I wanted to make sure it was one she’d love watching.
Yep, I actually chose a chick flick, as well, in deference to her tastes. And yes, because I wanted to make her happy. It's only for this evening. Tomorrow, I’ll be back to the tough, tyrannical chef at work. But tonight, I wanted to watch her face as she laughed.
So, I chose When Harry Met Sally. I wasn’t prepared for her clapping her hands in surprise then hugging me to thank me.
I also made us a tub of popcorn and filled our glasses of wine halfway through. When the credits rolled, I found she was asleep with her head in my lap.
I shut off the television and watch her sleep.
The curve of her eyelashes on her cheeks, the flush on her throat, the way she curls her fingers into my shirt…
A surge of protectiveness grips me. And with it is something softer, more potent, more cutting.
Something that raises goosebumps on my skin, makes my stomach roll, and my heart stutter.
Oh fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I can’t be falling for her. I can’t. This is temporary, right? I sag against the settee. Who am I kidding? This has long blown past temporary. This is something else. Something more intense. Something real. Something I don’t want to name… Yet. Not until I’ve had a chance to absorb what it means.
I ease her up and, without waking her, I scoop her up in my arms. She murmurs, then cuddles into my chest. There are dark circles under her eyes.
And hollows under her cheekbones. Has she lost weight?
It’s my fault. I've been pushing her so hard. But I also want her to be the best in the cooking world. I want people to discover how talented she is. And how disciplined. And how hard she’s worked to get here.
She deserves to be the chef of my new restaurant.
She’s absolutely the most promising sous chef I’ve had.
I should tell her that. It would boost her confidence to know how much faith I have in her. I need to learn to open up more to her.
I carry her up the stairs and into our bedroom.
I need to ask her to move in here with me. After making love to her here, I can’t not think of this bed as ours, and this room, this penthouse, as belonging to both of us.
I place her on the bed; on the side I’m already beginning to think of as hers. Then pull the covers up over her, before sliding in with her. I turn off the lamp, turn her on her side, and spoon her, enjoying the curve of her butt against the outline of my cock.
My sweatpants and her yoga pants are between us, but it doesn’t stop me from enjoying the feel of this warm woman against me.
I lock my arm around her waist, pulling her flush against my chest.
I close my eyes, expecting to lie awake as I normally do, but fall asleep almost instantly.
One second, I’m sleeping a deep, dreamless sleep. The next, I’m awake. It’s that ability to go to complete alertness which I learned in the Royal Marines, and which is now part of me.
I’m aware of my wife’s gaze on me.
I crack open my eyelashes enough to let her know that I know that she’s been watching me sleep.
That I can read the intention glittering in her eyes and that I’m allowing her go through with it.
She moves slowly, the desire on her face clear in the moonlight streaming through the windows. Her breathing is rough, a small smile curving her lips.
I flung off the cover sometime during the night. She’s stripped off her clothes and when she slides down my body. I have a full view of her curvy figure as she settles between my legs.
She pulls down my sweatpants, and I raise myself so she can pull them off.
By the time she lowers her chin, her breath searing the skin of my lower belly, I’m instantly fully erect.
My skin feels too tight for my body, and I dig my fingers into the sheets. When she closes her hot, wet mouth around my cock, I grunt.
Her slim fingers lock round the base of my shaft.
The contrast between the femininity of her delicate hold and the enraged, almost animalistic throb of my dick makes me even more hard.
I sense her struggling to grasp me, then she licks up the underside of my shaft.
Fuck.
Sweat beads my forehead. I pant heavily.
I slide my fingers into her hair and tug gently. Her moan shivers around my cock. That only makes it lengthen further.
I watch her on her hands and knees between my legs.
She’s bent over, fully naked, with the perfect globes of her arse in the air. Her gorgeous mouth struggles to take all of me in. She swallows, and a few more inches disappear between her lips.
Jesus Christ. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s as if I’ve died and gone to heaven.
She pulls down my sweats to mid-thigh and digs her fingers into my hip to steady herself. Sensing my gaze on her, she looks up from under her thick eyelashes.
She pulls back until my cock is poised at the edge of her lips. Then she moves in, and this time, my cock slides down her throat.
"Fuck." I can’t stop myself from thrusting up and further inside her mouth. She gags. Saliva drips down her chin.
It’s messy and so fucking hot. She flattens her tongue over the sensitive head of my cock. Little fireballs of pleasure shoot out from the contact. And when she massages my balls, my eyes roll back. "Jesus, I’m going to come."
That spurs her on to double her efforts. She licks, sucks, swallows around my cock with such enjoyment, the knot of tension at the base of my spine grows tighter. With a low groan I empty myself down her throat.
It feels like the longest fucking orgasm, and the cum drips from the corners of her mouth. I scoop it up, and when she’s done swallowing, I pull out and slide my finger between her lips.
She sucks on it, her breasts heaving. Her pupils are so blown, there’s only a circle of green around the black. I grab her from under her armpits and pull her up.
"You’re so fucking gorgeous." I kiss her deeply, tasting myself on her tongue. It drives me a little out of my head with desire.
I flip her on her back and settle my cock at her opening.
She’s so wet, I can feel the cum dripping from her. "You’re so turned on, baby."
"I…like giving blow jobs," she pants.
I frown, realizing she must have had some practice with other men. A stab of jealousy pinches my chest. At the same time, I gotta admit, I enjoyed the fruits of her experience. Also…I take it as a personal challenge.
I’m going to fuck her with such finesse that she forgets any other men she might have sucked off. The possessiveness tightens my thighs and hardens my balls.
I nudge her slit, then pause. "Condom?"
"I’m on birth control to regulate my periods," she says between pants.
"You’re sure?"
I’ve never trusted anyone enough to have unprotected sex before. I’ve always worn a condom.
But this is my wife. Mine. And when she murmurs, “Yes,” it’s consent from her for us to have no barrier between us.
My thoughts race ahead. I wonder how it will feel to be inside her with no barriers between us. To fill her with my cum. To mark her as mine in every way that matters.
It’s a kind of intimacy I never thought I’d ever experience. Not with my trust issues. Or my OCD. Or my need for control. But with her, I can be myself. I don’t need to hide anymore.
More importantly, it means she trusts me enough to want this too.
“I was wondering though…” She hesitates.
“Tell me, baby. Anything you want.” I search her features.
She tugs on my wrist and places my fingers around her throat. “What about breath play?”
I freeze. Yes, she indicated she wanted to experiment with it, but is it too early in our relationship to do that?
“I only took your virginity yesterday. Perhaps, we should wait until I've fucked you a few more times?” That’s what I say aloud, but I’m unable to stop myself from wrapping my fingers around her throat.
I squeeze gently.
Instantly, her pupils dilate. Color flushes her cheeks. She tightens her hold around my wrist.
“I want this.” The green circles around her irises flash. “I want to feel how it’d be if you held back my breath until the last second of my climax.”
Should I give in to the plea in her words?
Should I give in to this need clawing inside me to own the very air she breathes. It’s the ultimate sign of trust. The ultimate ownership of her. It feels incredibly special. My heart thunders in my chest. Lust shoots through my veins.
“Are you sure?”
She nods.
“I need to hear you say it, Ember. I need you to give me consent to control your breath.”
“I give you consent to control my breath.”
Her voice is eager, her gaze steady.
Fuck. My body feels like it’s on fire. I need to bury myself inside her. But first, I explain, “Anytime you want to stop, triple tap on my arm.”
She freezes, then nods. “Triple tap your arm if I want to stop.”
“You good?” I watch her closely.
“Yes.”
There’s no hesitation in her voice.
It spurs me on to squeeze down further, until her lips part. That’s when I thrust inside her. She’s moist enough that I slip in easily. I brush up against that soft spongy spot inside of her.
Her entire body jolts. She locks her legs around my waist. The angle causes me to slip in further.
"You feel so fucking soft. So incredibly hot. So tight."
Desire has my guts in thrall. My belly feels like there’s a fire lit inside.
I want to move slowly so she has time to adjust to my size again. But the lust that spirals through my veins is an aphrodisiac.
A groan swells her throat when I thrust inside her again. No sound emerges from her, but I feel the vibrations in my palm.
And that…feeling of being in total control of her breath. Her voice. Her. It sends lust shooting through my veins. Lust coalesces at the base of my spine. My dick seems to grow impossibly hard.
The need for her crowds out every other thought in my mind.
"I need to fuck you hard," I growl.
She shudders. And when she jerks her chin, I take that as assent.
I pry her hand off my wrist and curl her fingers around the headboard. Then do the same with her other arm.
"Hold on."