Chapter Nineteen
Marcus
Wren’s sudden and unexpected flare of jealousy has set fireworks off inside me. If she’s jealous, it means she has feelings for me beyond wanting me to give her a baby, and the two things combined are enough to send bells ringing in my head.
“My innocent little Birdy,” I growl into her ear, chuckling as she gasps indignantly and wriggles beneath me. As I move my hips, my erection slides through her ass cheeks. She squeals and buries her face in a pillow.
“I adore you,” I tell her, kissing her neck and sliding a hand beneath her to tug on her nipple.
“Don’t try to be all romantic,” she scoffs. “You just want to fuck me senseless.”
“If you mean do I want to make love to my beautiful wife and bring her to orgasm multiple times, the answer’s yes.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You want to fuck me.”
“Wren…”
“Go on, admit it.” Her face is flushed, and her eyes blaze as she looks at me over her shoulder.
I meet her gaze for a moment. Then I sit up. I reach over to the bedside table and retrieve the lube, squeeze some onto my fingers, and stroke my cock until I’m well lubricated.
Finally, I press a knee between hers to open them and slide my fingers down between her legs.
She’s already moist and swollen, and my lubed fingers glide easily into her.
She buries her face back in the pillow and moans as I stroke them in and out of her, and then slide them underneath her, to circle over her clit.
“Oh God…” She sighs.
“To clarify,” I murmur in her ear as I continue to arouse her, “I think you’re beautiful, and I love your body, and I think about making love to you every second of every day.
” I kiss her neck. “I think about kissing you, and touching your soft skin, and sucking your nipples, and turning you on until you’re begging me to take you. ”
She mumbles something incoherent into the pillow.
“And fantasize about filling you up with my cock, and how it feels to be inside you.” I suck her earlobe, still arousing her with my fingers. “And I think about taking you right to the edge, and then what sound you’re going to make next time when you come, and whether you’ll say my name.”
“Ohhh…”
“So when you ask me if I want to fuck you senseless, I suppose, technically, I have to answer yes. But you’re my wife. Which means it’s so much more than that. Because I love you, and I want to give you pleasure. Are we clear?”
She groans.
I remove my hand from beneath her, slide it under her chin, lift her face out of the pillow, and turn her so she’s looking at me.
She looks up into my eyes. Her face is flushed, and her eyes are filled with emotion, although I can’t quite fathom what.
“I love you,” I repeat. I know she’s not ready to say it back, but I want her to know how I feel.
I lower my head and kiss her, and she opens her mouth to me, letting me slide my tongue in. The kiss turns fiery, explosive, and I can’t hold back any longer. I nudge her knees wider, slide the tip of my cock down into her, and press my hips forward.
She breaks the kiss and buries her face back in the pillow with a loud moan. I stop and let her adjust, pull back a little, then slide the rest of the way in.
Ohhh, the sensation of her clamped around me is magnificent. Jesus, it would be incredibly easy to come on the spot. I hang onto my willpower with my fingertips and start moving, groaning every time I move back and sink forward into her warm, moist depths.
“You feel so good,” I whisper.
“Mmm…” She widens her thighs, obviously enjoying it too. “It’s amazing…”
I kiss her neck, her ear, and her mouth when she turns her face to me. “You like feeling me inside you?” I murmur.
“Mmm…”
I move my hand beneath her and play with her nipple while I move. Her mouth opens under mine, and she gives a low moan.
“You like this position?” I clarify. “I’m not hurting you?”
“No… it feels good…”
“Nice and deep?”
“Yeah…”
I’d wondered why her previous partners hadn’t been able to bring her to orgasm, and had been concerned there might be a physical reason that would make it less pleasurable for her, but I think now it’s probably just because they didn’t take time to arouse her enough first. And she, not knowing any better, didn’t think to ask for more foreplay.
I love how responsive her body is to me, and I feel a flood of exultant joy as she trembles, and I can tell her orgasm isn’t far away. “I’d like to make you come,” I whisper in her ear. “Do you think you can come for me?”
“Ohhh… maybe…”
I lift my hand then, and stop touching her. “I’m going to tease it out of you, little Birdy, a fraction at a time, until you’re begging me to let you come.”
She rests her forehead on the pillow, while I continue to thrust slowly inside her.
“I’m not going to stop until you do,” I tell her, kissing her neck. I stroke her back, her sides, her shoulders and arms, then move my hand underneath her and circle over her clit again.
She moans. “Mars…”
“So soft…” I groan, fasten my mouth on the point where her pulse is beating, and suck.
Her body jerks and she squeals. “You’ll leave a mark.”
“Good. It’ll tell everyone you belong to me.” It wasn’t hard enough to mark her, but the thought of doing so kinda turns me on.
Her hands are tucked under the pillow. I pull her left one out, look at her wedding ring, and close my hand over it. “You’re mine,” I growl in her ear.
She moans.
“And I’m yours,” I add. “One hundred percent. Every part of me. My hands.” I brush a thumb over her bottom lip. “My mouth.” I kiss her neck. “My cock.” I give a slightly harder thrust, and she gasps. “Do you like that thought?”
“Oh…”
“I’m here to satisfy your every whim, Wren.” I kiss her neck or her mouth in between each sentence. “I want to spend all my money on you. To treat you like a queen. To give you pleasure as often as I can. And to give you a baby. Do you like that idea?”
Her face and neck are now completely flushed, and I think she’s lost the power of speech.
“All I can think about is making love to you and what it might lead to,” I tell her hoarsely. “I get hard every time I think about it.”
“Ahhh… Mars… Oh… oh… ohhh…” She gasps and tenses, and I ride her through her orgasm, groaning as each powerful clench grips me and forces me farther toward my own climax. I’ve held on for so long that I’m convinced it’s all going to be over in seconds.
To my surprise, though, it approaches slowly, as if it’s creeping up my body like vines, wrapping around me, pulling me under…
I lift up onto my hands, feeling it in my thighs and stomach, condensing to a powerful tightening deep inside…
And then a slow heat spreading through me and bursting into flame as I come, my cock jerking with each jet of precious fluid as I fill her up.
It feels as if it goes on forever, inevitable and overwhelming, and we stay locked together in feral bliss until, eventually, the wave recedes, and I lower down on top of her gasping for breath.
“Jesus.” I bury my face in her neck, trembling from the intensity of it. “What are you doing to me?”
“Phneugh,” she says into the pillow, still sprawled on her front, completely limp and spent.
I should withdraw, because I don’t want to hurt her. I should get up and make sure she’s okay, get her some water, give her a little aftercare. But I can’t move. I don’t think my muscles will hold me up if I do.
Thirty seconds go by—or it could be three hours, I’m not sure—and then Wren turns her head on the pillow and whispers, “Mars?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re squashing me.”
“Sorry.” I force myself to move, groaning as I withdraw, and collapsing onto the pillows beside her. I’m still trembling. “I feel as if I’ve run a marathon.”
She moves onto her side as if her limbs are made of lead and rests her head on the pillows beside me. I roll onto my side, and we look at each other, not touching, a few inches apart.
“I should get you some water,” I murmur.
Her lips curve up. She lifts a hand and trails her fingers through my hair, then circles my ear before brushing back down my jaw to my mouth. I’m too tired to do anything but lie there and enjoy her gentle touch.
“Go to sleep,” she whispers.
I close my eyes and do as my wife says.
*
When I rouse, once again, the bed’s empty.
I turn my head and look out of the window, but she’s not in the garden this time. Yawning, I get up, pull on a clean tee and track pants, and wander out.
I find her in the kitchen. She’s put on the oven to reheat the pie, and she’s stirring a bowl of mashed potatoes that Ruth obviously made earlier. She’s also set the table, and lit a candle between the place settings, which is a touch that warms me through.
“Hey,” she says as she sees me. “How are you feeling?”
“Good. How long was I out?”
“Not that long. Forty-five minutes, maybe?” She puts the bowl back into the microwave and turns it on.
I walk up to her and turn her to face me. She does so willingly, although she fixes her gaze on my neck rather than looking up to meet my eyes. I can see why. Her eyes are red. She’s been crying.
She slides her arms around me and rests her cheek on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her and give her a hug.
I don’t know why she’s been crying. If she hadn’t hugged me, if she’d walked away, I might have thought I’d upset her, but I’m hoping it’s just that she’s overwhelmed with the intensity of our lovemaking.
The microwave pings, and she moves back. “I thought you’d be hungry,” she says, retrieving the bowl and stirring the mashed potato again.
I don’t want to push her to talk about it.
I know she came into this marriage with the firm conviction that she was going to remain aloof, with the intention of walking away once she was pregnant.
I was just as determined to prove that we could have something real here, if she gave it half a chance.
I think it’s working… I just have to make sure I don’t push her too hard and frighten her away.
“Have you drunk some water?” I ask.