Chapter 21 #2
Kneeling to be eye level with her, I softly brush my mouth against my wife’s.
She’s still, as if worried any enthusiasm might scare me off, but any reticence I felt at crossing this line of intimacy is gone.
I need her lips. I need her cum. I need her in my lap every day so I can feed her and take care of her.
I need my seed in her womb so she can grow my babies.
But first, I need to taste her. My second brush is firmer, and she tries to chase my mouth, but my hold on her jaw is firm.
Teasing her just a little more, I run my tongue across her lush lower lip, reveling in her tiny gasp, which is my undoing.
My hand leaves her jaw to join the other in her hair, bending her head to the side so I can finally claim her mouth.
She parts perfectly for me, letting my tongue in to dance with hers, and I groan deeply at the taste of my wife. Sweetness from her dessert, a lingering hint of champagne earlier, and a flavor all her own that I know with certainty I’ll be dreaming of on my deathbed.
It feels like I’ve reached a new plane of existence when she winds her arms around my neck and wraps her legs around my waist, trying to get as close to me as possible.
I leave the sanctuary of her lips for just a moment, trailing hot kisses down her neck until I miss her lips too much and return to give her more teasing pecks.
Finally, with one last nip at her bottom lip, I pull back to find my wife looking thoroughly debauched. Lips reddened and eyes glassy, she looks like a dream.
“Please,” she says, and my kitten has tears in her eyes. My mood changes from elation to concern in a heartbeat, and I cup her face in both hands.
“Darling,” I whisper. “What’s wrong?”
She sniffles to keep her tears from falling and takes a fortifying breath before breaking my heart.
“Please don’t kiss me, then take it away again. You kissed me at the wedding, and I was beginning to think you never would again, and I—”
I cut her off with my lips on hers, pulling her tighter to me and rising out of the hot tub.
Water cascades off us as I stride into the suite.
Pushing her into the wall just inside, I grip her thighs tightly and swallow her gasp of pain.
Finally pulling back, I try to give her every ounce of the honesty she deserves in my gaze.
I can feel her trembling, and I know she’s wet and cold, but she needs to hear this now.
“Katarina. You will never go another day without my lips on yours. It was my misplaced fear that had me holding back from you, but that’s no excuse. You’ll get tired of me kissing you before you ever have to beg me again. It’s more likely that you’ll be begging me to stop.”
She’s breathing heavily but no longer on the verge of tears, and before long, one side of her mouth turns up in a soft smile. Leaning toward me, she reaches for a soft kiss that I readily give her, but when I try to deepen it, she pulls back.
“Put me down, please,” she says, and I do, although I’m confused. I certainly thought we were heading for a potentially consummative night, but she’s walking away from me toward the bathroom, toned ass swaying back and forth torturously.
“I’m going to warm up in the shower, then can we cuddle and watch some reality shows until we fall asleep?” she asks, and I start slowly stripping off my wet clothes.
Giving her what I know is an irresistible smirk, I move to join her in the bathroom.
“That sounds perfect, Kitten. Can I join you in the shower?” It’ll be the perfect chance to get my hands on her again, and she can familiarize herself with my body more so that she’s as comfortable as possible before we…
“No, thank you,” she says primly before stepping underneath the rainfall showerhead and closing the non-frosted shower door.
Before I can ask why and whether something’s wrong, she continues.
“You can watch, though, if you’d like,” my wife purrs, and I stare gobsmacked as she lathers up her hands to wash.
Even without anything else happening, this is already one of the best nights of my life.
Sitting down on the bathmat outside the shower, I settle in for Katarina’s show.
As she writhes beneath the water, I feel my desire for her sharpening beyond any feeling I’ve ever experienced.
I would burn down the world for her if I thought it would make her happy, even if it consumed me.
I’d have to rise from the ashes to ensure she was taken care of, but I’d do it again and again.
The last bit of my restraint hangs on by a thread as I watch her wrap her hair in a towel, dry off, and lotion herself, all while showing me every inch of her body.
I’m hit with a sudden urge to rip her towel off and fuck her on the counter.
I want her first time to be sweet and respectful.
I want her to feel cherished and loved and special, knowing it’s not how I’ve ever fucked before.
But she’s toeing a dangerous line by teasing me like this.
The longer we go, the less I want to respect her and the more I want to ruin her.
We're losing the chance for a soft consummation as I get closer to losing control.
I need to keep my desire more tightly locked in its cage. Otherwise, I'm afraid we’ll both burn.