Chapter 40
AVA
“You can’t say things like that,” I breathe, convinced that if I speak too loud, it will scare this moment away.
Anderson is here, holding me close, saying all the things I didn’t know I wanted to hear.
He wants me.
He wants this.
He doesn’t care how much of a mess I am, how much of a mess my life is.
He wants me.
“Just tell me what I have to do to show you that I’ll do anything to call you mine, love.”
And finally, I let go of the worry that I’m not enough, that I’m too much, that everything I carry is too heavy to ask someone for help.
I let it all go.
And I press my lips to his.
Instantly, his mouth melts to mine with an urgency unlike anything he’s ever shown me before.
In the past, I’ve felt the way Anderson holds me when we kiss, like he’s on borrowed time, taking advantage of every second.
And maybe that’s why I’ve always pulled away.
Because his kiss told me everything I refused to accept. That he’s everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve ever needed, everything I always wished was mine.
“Come here,” he says against my lips, immediately swallowing my gasp when he pulls me into his lips, grabbing my hips as he stands, my legs immediately wrapping around my waist.
I can feel the passion in his kiss, the love in the way he carefully sets me down on his bed, the heat in his hands as they touch my skin.
When he breaks our kiss, my eyes slowly open as I adjust to the darkness of his bedroom. It’s early afternoon, but his blinds are closed, shielding us from the world outside.
Reminding me of the thought that it’s just us. Grounding me in the moment.
Because this isn’t a quick fuck to forget, this isn’t a distraction to clear my mind.
I can see Anderson’s face, his dark hair framing his caramel eyes as he stands above me, darkened with lust as they trail over my body.
I’m fully dressed, but I feel like I’m on full display.
Like he can see every part of me I try to hide—the part that wants to call him mine as much as he wants to call me his.
The thought sparks my desire, the need to feel him on me, inside me.
I feel his hands trail up the tops of my legs, up my stomach, and to my chest, finding the zipper of my hoodie, the button of my jeans, the clasp of my bra.
His eyes meet mine in a silent ask for permission, and I nod as I sit up on my elbows, resisting the urge to fight the intimacy of the moment with a smartass comment or rolling my eyes and taking the bra off myself.
Instead, I make myself slow down, absorbing it all—like if we move slowly enough, I can commit it all to memory.
There’s something about the way Anderson moves within the tension. He moves like he has all the time in the world, like there’s no need to rush this.
A low groan escapes his throat as I help him slide my bra down my arms and kick off my jeans. His hands slowly glide up my waist, his body leaning over me, so he can press featherlight kisses to my skin. “Beautiful,” he whispers, his breath tickling my skin.
His lips are warm against my chest, igniting a fire in me, pressure building between my thighs as his palms find my breasts, massaging one with each hand before taking my nipples between his fingers.
My hands find the back of his head, threading through his hair as his lips move across my chest—kissing, nipping, sucking, biting, anything to taste me. “Anderson,” I breathe, his name falling so seamlessly from my lips.
He takes one of my nipples into his mouth while massaging the other, and I close my eyes as the pressure continues to build. I arch my back, my fingers tangling in his hair as I hold him against me, his tongue swirling, his teeth occasionally grazing against the sensitive skin.
Every drag of his tongue, every touch from his fingers, every noise he makes goes directly to my core, and he doesn’t stop until I’m a complete and utter mess writhing beneath him.
He kisses back up to my lips, and I feel his hands trail to the seam of my underwear, his fingers hooking under the elastic.
“I’ve been dreaming of this,” he whispers against my lips.
I hum, my body buzzing with need as his hand slides under the waistband of my panties, another groan escaping his throat when his finger lightly brushes my center.
“There’s nothing fake about how wet my wife is for me,” he says before pressing his lips to mine at the same time he drags a slow circle over my clit.
“Please,” I breathe, my eyes closing as he continues the motion, and I’m already so close to the edge that I don’t even know what I’m asking for.
But somehow Anderson knows, adding just enough pressure to have me panting against his mouth as he hovers his lips just above mine. I’m practically naked while he’s still fully clothed, but I don’t care.
“You want to keep pretending this is fake? Fine. I’ll fake fuck that word right out of your pretty little mouth.
” His voice is thick with lust, the low timbre making my entire body shiver.
He presses a finger into my center, as his thumb continues the mesmerizing circles against my clit, but it’s his words that have me coming undone.
“That’s it, baby. Show me how good your husband makes you come. ”
I feel the pressure building inside of me, letting go of every ounce of control and giving it all to Anderson as I completely fall apart.
He works me through my orgasm, whispering more words of praise against my skin until I’m completely spent.
Blinking my eyes open, I find Anderson watching me, feeling his weight above me, caging me in. His eyes are hooded and darkened with lust as he gently withdraws his fingers, and I immediately feel the emptiness.
I follow his hand as he brings his glistening fingers to his lips, his eyes watching me as he puts them into his mouth, tasting me. My core clenches, missing the way he felt inside me.
And immediately wanting more.
I reach for the button of his jeans, but he grabs my wrist.
“What?” I ask. “Done so soon, sunshine?”
“Done? Not even close,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ears. He rolls on to his side, holding himself up with his elbow ane resting his head in his hand.
I flip onto my side to meet his gaze. “Then what’s the hold up?”
He gives me that easy smile, but I can see the flush spreading over his cheeks. “I just need a few minutes.”
It takes me a second to register his words and the way he blushes. “Did you—”
“Come in my pants? Yes.” He says it confidently, even though the way his face is bright red gives him away.
“Oh my god,” I say, flipping back onto my back with a huff of laughter.
“I didn’t have a choice,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to my lips. “My wife is hot when she comes all over my hand.”
“But I didn’t even get a chance to touch you,” I reply, but it comes out more breathy than I planned, feeling my need growing again at the thought he came just from touching me.
I reach for the waistband of his jeans, and this time he lets me. My mouth finds his, and the kiss deepens instantly, only breaking when I bring Anderson’s shirt over his head, tangling my fingers in his hair as my pussy practically begs for relief again.
As his tongue dances with mine, I drag my center over his cock, big enough to feel through his jeans.
The friction of my underwear against his jeans has me seeing stars behind my eyes. Anderson’s fingers dig into my hips, hard enough to leave marks, and I swallow every gasp, every groan that escapes him. The noises he makes has my body moving over him faster and faster, the pressure building again.
“Ava,” Anderson says, his grip on my hips tightening enough to stop me, and a whine escapes my lips. He chuckles, low and deep. “Let me fuck you properly.”
I bite my lip. “Only because you asked so nicely.”