Chapter 25 The Morning After
THE MORNING AFTER
DALLAS
Her scent clung to everything—the sheets and my skin.
I woke painfully hard, my body already tuned to a frequency I hadn't known existed before last night.
She was still pressed against me, her back fitted to my chest. My arm lay heavy across her stomach, possessive, even in sleep. And her ass, fuck, her ass was nestled right against my cock like she was trying to kill me slowly.
I buried my nose in the curve of her neck and breathed. My hips rolled forward, a motion I couldn't have stopped if I'd wanted to. I didn't want to.
She made a sound. Soft. Sleep-blurred. It traveled straight down my spine.
My wife.
A month ago, those words together weren’t in my vocabulary, but now the words landed differently.
My hand drifted upward, slow, mapping the terrain of her ribs before settling over her breast. The weight of her filled my palm perfectly. When my thumb grazed her nipple, it tightened instantly.
Fuck.
I did it again, slower this time, as I pressed my lips to her bare shoulder and watched the goosebumps rise on her skin.
She stirred and then stretched. The movement shoved her ass back against me, making my jaw clench.
“Dallas...?”
“I'm here.” I traced my lips along the shell of her ear. “I've got you.”
I rolled her nipple between my fingers, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp. Her spine curved, pushing her breast deeper into my hand.
God. This woman.
I set my teeth against the cord of her neck. She shuddered, and I felt it everywhere.
“Feel what you do to me?” I rocked against her, letting her feel every rigid inch. “Feel how much I want you?”
“We should…” Her voice caught. “We should probably…”
“Later.” I kissed the spot I'd just grazed with my teeth. “Right now, I need you to answer a different question.”
“What question?”
I slid my hand down her stomach. Slow. “Whether you're as wet for me as I think you are.”
Her breath hitched. I felt her thighs press together, not to stop me, but like she couldn't help it. Like her body was already answering.
My fingers slipped down, finding her, and fuck. She was soaked. Hot silk against my fingertips.
“There's my answer,” I murmured against her throat. “You've been waiting for me, haven't you, sweetheart? Even in your sleep.”
She whimpered, and it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.
I stroked her slowly, learning what made her breath catch. What made her hips chase my hand. Last night had been frantic, desperate, two people giving in to a desire they'd fought for too long. This was different. This was me memorizing her.
“Dallas, please…”
“Please what?” I circled her clit, feather-light. “Tell me what you need.”
“You know what I need.”
“I want to hear you say it.” I pressed harder, and her whole body jerked. “I want those pretty lips telling me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
“I want…” She broke off, gasping, as I slid two fingers inside her. “God. I want you. I want you inside me.”
“That's my girl.”
I withdrew my hand, she made a sound of protest that shot straight to my cock, and I rolled her onto her stomach. She went easily, face turning into the pillow, and the view knocked the air from my lungs.
Her hair, long and tangled against white sheets. The delicate line of her spine. The flare of her hips. And that ass, round and perfect, like every fantasy I'd ever had.
I ran my palms over her shoulders, slowly moving down to the small of her back. When I gripped her hips, she pushed back against me instinctively.
“You have any idea how long I've thought about this?” I squeezed, watching my fingers press into her soft skin. “Having you like this? Underneath me, wanting me?”
She turned her head, one eye finding mine. “How long?”
“Longer than I should admit.” I bent down, pressed my lips to the base of her spine.
I kissed lower. Then lower. She squirmed.
“I used to watch you walk away from me,” I confessed against her skin, “and imagine exactly this. Spreading you out on my bed. Making you scream my name.”
“So make me.” Her voice was steadier now. A challenge. “Stop talking about it and make me… scream.”
Fuck… My cock throbbed. I'd created a monster.
I knelt behind her, positioning myself at her entrance. She was dripping, her arousal coating her thighs, and I took a moment to look. To appreciate, as I grabbed a condom from the drawer next to the bed, ripped it open, and rolled it on.
Then I dragged the head of my cock through her slick heat, and we both groaned.
“You ready for me?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?” I pressed forward, just the tip, then withdrew. Teasing. “Because once I'm inside you, I'm not stopping. I'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. Until the only word left in that beautiful head is mine.”
“Dallas…”
“Mine,” I repeated, gripping her hips. “Say it. Say you’re mine. My wife.”
“I’m yours.” The word came out broken. Perfect. “Your wife. Now please…”
I drove into her, and she cried out, her hands fisting the sheets, and I had to hold still for a moment, or this would be over embarrassingly fast. She was so fucking tight. Hot. Wet. Like being wrapped in heaven and set on fire.
“Fuck.” I breathed the word into the space between her shoulder blades. “You feel like you were made for me. You know that? This pussy was made for my cock.”
She clenched around me, and I saw stars.
I pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, then slammed back in again, burying myself deep inside her. She moaned into the pillow, and I reached down to turn her face toward me.
I set a rhythm, deep strokes that made her cry out with every thrust. Not fast. Not yet. I wanted to feel every inch of her. I wanted her desperately.
“You're taking me so well,” I murmured, watching her face. “So perfect.”
“More.” She pushed back against me, trying to take me deeper. “Harder. I need…”
I snapped my hips. Once. Hard. She gasped.
“Like that?”
“Yes.”
I gave her what she wanted. Faster now, deeper, the wet sound of our bodies meeting filled the room. I slid a hand beneath her, found her clit, and started circling, adding the perfect amount of pressure.
“Oh god…” Her voice cracked. “Oh god, Dallas, I'm…”
“I know, sweetheart. I can feel your pussy sucking me in.” I pressed harder, synced my fingers to my thrusts.
She shattered. “Dallas.”
Her whole body seized, inner muscles clenching around me in rhythmic waves that pulled a groan from somewhere deep in my chest. I fucked her through it, every thrust prolonging the spasm until she was sobbing into the pillow.
My rhythm stuttered, hips driving forward one last time, burying myself as deep as I could go as I came harder than I ever had in my life. I groaned into her neck, pulsing inside her, my vision whiting out at the edges.
For a long moment, we didn’t move.
I rolled us carefully onto our sides, still inside her, unwilling to break that connection. Her heart hammered against my palm where it rested over her chest.
She was shaking. I pulled her closer.
The craziest part about all of this was how badly I wanted to do this every day for the rest of my life… And that was terrifying.