Chapter 47
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Anything You Need
IRINA
“What?” I looked up, mouth agape at my gorgeous, sexy, kind, giving—oh so fucking giving—husband. “You’ve … never?”
He shook his head, cheeks flaming. For once I was not enjoying the sight of the flush creeping over his skin. Cadence, that fucking selfish bitch.
Guilt twinged in me. I’d had three full days of the best sex of my life with him, and despite having dreamed about doing just this, I’d never once offered, never once taken the initiative.
Possibly because he was always so giving, with his hands, and his mouth, and then he’d be inside of me, and we were both so well and truly satisfied afterwards …
But maybe he was always so giving because he’d only ever had experience with a partner who took and never returned the favour.
I pushed back those feelings. Unlike that self-centred scroaf?, I would show him that he deserved to be worshipped. He deserved to receive.
“Well,” I breathed, sliding my palms up his legs, trailing the backs of my fingers up the engorged length of him. “I’d better make sure your first one is … unforgettable.”
“Catnip … everything you do is—ungh!”
I grinned as his head lolled back when I licked him from base to crown, my nails grazing gently against his balls. I circled the head with my tongue, a mewl of pleasure tearing from me when I tasted the salty tang of his precum.
“Catnip … fuck …” he rasped, clenching his fingers against the fabric of the lounge. I was obsessed with undoing him enough to get him to swear like that.
“Oh, Hubby, this is going to be so much fun,” I purred, pressing a kiss to the very tip of him, and then opening my lips, taking him between them.
He was so thick in my mouth, and the hot pulse of his cock against my tongue had me moaning, wet heat flooding between my legs as I worked my way down his shaft.
The soft, low, incoherent sounds he made only fuelled my desire, and I took him as deep into my throat as I could, my tongue sliding along the underside of him on the way back up and back down again, finding a rhythm that had my clit pulsing in time to every bob of my head.
“God … Ri, I’m not going to … this is … holy shit,” he mumbled, rocking his hips and pushing himself deeper into my throat. I gagged, and he gasped, trying to pull away. I gripped the base of him in my fist and slid up, taking a breath, pumping him with my hand.
“Sorry!” he panted. I grinned up at him, bathing his cock head with my tongue, then taking him deeper into my mouth than before, breathing through the pressure at the back of my throat. I hummed around him, saliva dripping from my mouth to coat my hand.
I stroked, and sucked, and licked, and la naiba, I was addicted to this, to watching him try to hold on and slowly unravel as he reached the point of no return.
I was enjoying it so much, I thought I could probably reach between my legs and get myself off with one thrust of my fingers into my dripping pussy.
I could pull away, climb him and slide my pussy onto him, take his orgasm that way … but this wasn’t about me. This was about his pleasure. About showing him what he deserved from a woman … from a wife.
His body went suddenly tight. “Catnip, I’m so close … you don’t have to—”
I hollowed my cheeks, eyeing him with a cheeky challenge as I sucked him deep, and with a rumbled, “Oh … oh fuck, yes!” His muscles rippled, and his cock swelled even thicker in my mouth, and then he was shooting hot jets down my throat, clawing at the lounge cushions for dear life as I swallowed over and over again, taking everything he gave me.
As his orgasm subsided, and his body relaxed, he reached for me, eyes glassy, mouth slack. He caressed my cheek with his thumb.
“That was … incredible,” he murmured, his words hoarse. “You are incredible.”
I released his cock with a wet pop and smiled softly up at him.
“It’s the very least you deserve, Hubby.
” I pushed myself up, to find his mouth with mine.
He kissed me deeply, clearly not concerned about the taste of his cum still coating my tongue.
Which only intensified my arousal, and I couldn’t help the little, desperate noise that erupted from my throat.
He pulled back, his fingers on the nape of my neck, eyes searching my face. Slowly, his lips stretched into a wicked grin.
“Did my wife enjoy sucking me dry so much that she needs … relief?” he rumbled, hand sliding down my throat, over the sensitive spot where he’d sucked a hickey into me as he fingered me in the spa. He grazed my nipples, and I gasped.
“Your wife loves your cock,” I replied, taking his hand and guiding it between my legs. He groaned when his fingers slid against my slickness. “So much that I’m aching for you here.”
“Well, we can’t leave you unfulfilled, can we?” He found my piercing and tugged on it, making me cry out. “Stand up, turn around and bend over, Catnip.”
With butterflies racing, and achy heat already blooming in every nerve ending, I complied.
And when his hands spread my butt cheeks, and he pressed his face between my legs to feast on my dripping pussy, I wondered what on earth I’d done right to have ended up with this man, who was so perfect for me in every possible way.
He looked so beautiful sleeping. I stifled a giggle, gazing sleepily down at him as the first rays of sun filtered in through the blinds. If I called him that, he’d probably wince and request I use something more masculine to describe him.
He was masculine. And he was beautiful, with his black curls, and his long, dark eyelashes, and the stubble on his chin that always appeared by mid-afternoon despite him shaving every morning without fail.
I reached out to run my fingers along the roughness of it and the sharp jaw it covered. Beautiful.
He twitched, his eyes slitting open. Even half awake, he reached for me, tugging me against his chest.
“Morning, Catnip,” he rumbled. “Did you sleep well?”
“Soo well … since we started sharing a bed, I don’t think I’ve had a bad night’s sleep.” I traced the patterns on his sleep shirt. “Is it weird that I’m grateful we had to leave Australia?”
“If you mean because it gave us the impetus to get out of our heads and let this happen …” He nuzzled his nose against mine. “Then no, it’s not weird at all.”
I hid my grin in his shirt. “I almost don’t want to have to go back to reality, even though when I do, I won’t have to be constantly looking over my shoulder for someone waiting to pounce on me and deport me.”
Henry’s brow furrowed. “Except for Cockerels Cap. We still don’t entirely know what his motivation for following you around is.” He ran his hand down over my hair. “Lucian seems to have lost him too.”
My stomach swirled. “What do you mean, lost him?”
Henry pursed his lips. “He hasn’t been seen around your apartment since the morning you were arrested.”
I shrugged, forcing down the worry. “Well, maybe his job was just to make sure I got arrested?” I suggested. “And he’s finished with us now.”
“I don’t know. That feels far too neat and tidy for my liking,” Henry muttered, and I had to agree.
“Well, it’s another thing for future us to worry about,” I said, my tone bright.
“We don’t have to think about it until we return to Sydney, and in the meantime …
” I trailed my hand down under the covers and into his pyjama pants.
“I’m on a luxury yacht, in the Whitsundays, with my husband, and I want to enjoy him. ”
Henry groaned, and for a blissful hour, we forgot about the problems we’d left behind in Sydney …
My phone buzzed just as I stepped out of the shower, having been thoroughly washed down … and dirtied up … and washed down again by my very attentive husband. I picked up my phone, frowning as I tapped the text message icon.
Unknown Number: Irina, it’s Dom. I thought you would want to know that Kat was attacked by another student.
She’s been taken to Frankwright Hospital.
She’s mildly concussed, has some bumps and bruises, and there is damage to her neck and throat, but we won’t know how bad it is just yet.
She’s been moved to a ward, and we’re waiting for scans.
“Ce pula mea?” I cursed, voice wavering as my stomach dropped. Henry was behind me in an instant.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry lacing his tone. I wordlessly showed him the screen. Reaching for his glasses, his expression tightened as he scanned the message.
“What are we going to do?” he asked as, with shaking hands, I typed a reply, guilt roiling sickeningly in my stomach. Here I was, playing honeymoon with my maybe-not-so-fake husband, and some nenorocitule had been roughing up my best friend!
“Her neck … holy shit, Henry, her throat! She’s a singer! She was about to star in a production of Phantom of the Opera!” I sank onto the bed, covering my face with my hands.
A frantic yowl erupted from outside the door, and Henry marched over to let Abernathy and Trinket into the room. Abs immediately jumped up and climbed into my lap. I buried my trembling fingers in his thick fur.
“I bet it was that stupid mole, Grace,” I mumbled. “Fucking jealous cow, she probably did it to sabotage Kat’s opportunity to shine in the lead role. You should have heard her at the bar that night, talking like Kat had only managed to get the lead by befriending some nepo baby!”
Henry sat beside me, leaning down to scratch Trink’s head as she stood on her hind legs, her paws resting against his shin. “You need to go and visit her.”
I blinked, my lips parting. “But … I’m not allowed back into the country yet.”
Henry’s expression was determined as his free hand squeezed my knee.
“We can make it work. I can get my jet up here within a day. Lucian can meet us in Sydney and take you straight to the hospital. We’ll avoid immigration entirely.
In and out, you get to see her, to let her know you’re still her person, and we’ll be back here before anyone’s the wiser. ”
“That seems very risky,” I mumbled. Fear of getting caught, of the knowledge that there would be no second chance for me if I was, warred with the thought of not being able to be there for her at all … not being able to show her that I did care, that her problems mattered to me. My stomach churned.
“I think I’m going to be sick!” I leapt up from the bed, practically launching Abs into the air as I rushed to the ensuite.
Henry followed me as I leaned over the toilet bowl, nausea roiling.
Nothing came up. I sat back against the wall, trying to suck air into my lungs.
This wasn’t illness. It was a panic attack.
Someone had hurt Kat—someone she should have been able to trust had betrayed her.
“Hey. I’m here with you.” Henry crouched beside me, pushing my suddenly sweaty hair back from my face. “Breathe with me, Catnip.”
I fixed my eyes on him, matching his long, calming breaths, and slowly, the queasiness and the hot, tight feeling in the back of my throat eased. Henry left the room and returned with my phone.
“I think you should ask this Dom fellow for more information.” He passed the phone to me. “Knowing will help you. I always find that when something is worrying me to this extent, being able to understand it helps me to alleviate my apprehension.”
I took my phone, staring down at the blank screen. He was probably right. Knowing more might help. But what if it was worse than I was imagining? And I could imagine some pretty awful scenarios.
“Will you do it for me?” My voice wobbled as I pressed my phone back into his hands. “I … I don’t think I can, right now.”
“Of course I will, Ri. Anything you need, I’m here.”