Chapter 30
Karan
Rachel is a sight to behold on the couch. Against the sound of the crackling fire and the muffled quiet of winter, she’s completely blissed out for the first time in ages.
And my stomach fills with butterflies at the knowledge that I’m the one responsible.
After we finished our soups and brushed our teeth earlier, I helped Rachel get cozy on the couch by laying a blanket over her and folding the end of it over and under her feet, the way she likes it.
I brought her the paperback she packed for the trip, and while she started to immerse herself in it, I brewed her a cup of chamomile tea and started a fire in the fire stove near the couch.
Through the window, a soft snowfall made up of thick, fluffy snowflakes that float through the air like pixie dust reflect the moon’s gentle glow.
It’s a good thing she was too tired to fight, because there was no way I was going to let her do the dishes, or anything else for that matter.
I meant what I said about tonight being all about her.
Once I’m done with the dishes, I’m thinking of giving her a nice foot massage, then, if she’s receptive to it, I long to taste every inch of her again.
But first, I need to take care of myself.
Resisting Rachel’s advances earlier took all of my willpower. Seeing her come undone against my tongue nearly destroyed me right on the spot, especially since it’s been so many months since we’ve been together in this way.
And if I’m to hold myself accountable and continue to make her feel good tonight, I’ve got to at least relieve some of the pressure.
I approach my beautiful wife, who’s deeply engrossed in her book and cozied up in her blanket.
I love the slight movement of her eyebrows as her eyes move up and down the page, revealing every little hint of emotion she’s going through while reading.
It’s almost a shame to pull her from her focus, because I could keep watching her like this for hours on end.
Instead, I lean over to kiss her forehead. She looks up with a startled expression, then smiles.
“Coming to cuddle me at last?” she asks in a hopeful tone.
“Almost. I’m just headed for a quick shower.”
She pouts. “Okay, then.”
She watches me head to the bathroom, and when I shut the door behind me, her gaze burns on my back.
I waste no time getting undressed and turning on the hot water. As soon as the spray hits my back, I grip myself firmly and grit my teeth as I begin to stroke, pressing my other hand to the glass pane of the shower to support myself.
Tingles of pleasure make their way from my core down my spine, all the way to my toes. The sight of Rachel overwhelms every inch of my mind; her flushed cheeks, her soft whimpers and hitched breath, the way she writhed against my mouth as I tasted the sweetness of her.
A grunt nearly escapes me, but I need to be quiet. The last thing I want is to alert her to what I’m doing and pull her from her blissed out moment of relaxation.
But that hope turns out to be in vain when I hear the door open.
Rachel stands in the doorway, her gaze immediately going down to where I’m gripping onto myself. Her pretty mouth falls open, and I stop my stroking.
“Rachel.” I’m panting.
A mischievous grin paints itself on Rachel’s face. “I knew it.”
She shuts the door behind her with her foot and grabs at the hem of her shirt, beginning to pull it over her head.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I ask, my breath hitching at the sight of her bare chest, her dark pink nipples pebbling up from the cool air, which hasn’t warmed up yet from the steam of the shower.
Rachel slips out of her sweatpants and underwear, and what a sight she is, completely bare like this.
“I’m joining you. What do you think I’m doing?”
“Rachel.”
I hold the door of the shower shut, as much as my body wishes she would slip inside with me. How sinfully decadent it would be to grab onto those soft hips, to sink deep into her, to feel her flutter around me while she comes.
“Tonight was supposed to be about you.”
She grabs the shower door in defiance.
“I know, I know. But, Karan…” She looks up at me, her emerald eyes glowing as she bites her lip. “Please. Let me watch. I want to see what I do to you.”
“Fuck, Rachel.” I shut my eyes and lean my forehead against the glass, trying to keep my focus.
But there’s no way I can refuse the goddess right behind that glass wall literally begging me to let her in.
“You can’t behave, can you?” I chide.
She smirks, pressing her breasts up against the glass.
Damn this woman.
“Come on. Let me in.”
I grunt in despair and let go of the door, backing up to give her space to enter.
“You go there, and don’t you dare move.” I point to a corner of the shower and use every ounce of willpower in me to stop myself from touching her.
Rachel obeys and goes to her corner, biting her lip again. The hot water soaks her hair and plasters it to the side of her face.
Before I have a chance to grip myself again, she presses her hands to her breasts and begins to pinch her nipples.
“Touch yourself, Karan.”
My God, she’s such a sight. When I see her like this, her face slightly scrunched up with the pleasure I know she’s giving herself, I see more than the most beautiful woman in the world.
I see my sweet Rachel, the woman who’s selfless to the point of nearly caring too much about others. I see the woman who can make me laugh, think, smile, cry, and everything in between. I see the woman who, despite my bullshit, is still here, willing to fight with me.
I grip myself again without letting my gaze stray away from her. When I utter a pained groan and start stroking, she bites her lip and looks downward.
“Eyes up here,” I say, my voice strained with the pleasure coursing through my veins.
She obeys and licks her lips. Then, she falls to her knees.
I pause my movement, the sight of her on her knees sending a shockwave through my spine. “Baby, I told you not to move.”
“I didn’t move. I stayed right here, Karan.” She smiles up at me, all innocence and bliss, biting that pretty bottom lip of hers again. “But while you’re touching yourself… do me a favour and just imagine what it would feel like to have my lips around you.”
My knees nearly buckle under me. Almost against my will, I resume the hard strokes, chasing friction that I secretly wish she were giving me.
“Fuck… baby…”
“It’d be so much better, wouldn’t it?”
Still on her knees, Rachel moves one inch closer to me. I’m about to argue, but she’s faster than I am.
“I’m not touching you. I’ll obey. But picture it, Karan. You already know how nice and warm my mouth is.”
I don’t know how much longer I can resist my wife. Especially when her words bring back memories of things I’ve done to her.
Multiple times.
“And it’s not only for you.” Rachel scoots again, her mouth now so close to me that I can feel her hot breath against my sensitive head. “This would be for me, too, Karan. You know how much I want this? How much I want you to fuck my face?”
I groan in agony, watching her as she slips one hand between her legs. “You could touch me there and find out how much I crave you, Karan.”
All self-control snaps; I let go of myself and grab a fistful of my wife’s hair instead. Rachel looks up at me with a teasing smile, then wraps one arm around my hip to grab me by the ass for purchase.
“You’ll be the death of me,” I tell her, my voice full of gravel, right before she slips her lips over me.
Fuck, her mouth is heaven.
Why did I spend so much time fighting her? Why did I spend so long in a daze, going through the motions, trying to please everything in my life but her?
As I grip her hair tighter and groan at the delicious vibration of her humming against me, it occurs to me that this right here—this blissful sense of total control—feels oddly foreign.
It wraps around my limbs, flowers through my ribs, and takes hold of me like a second skin.
A new surge of power flows through me, and the elation makes me weightless.
I look down at my beautiful wife just as she swirls her tongue in that way she knows I love; I grit my teeth to hold back, then pull my hips back, away from her hot mouth. She looks up at me with big, disappointed eyes.
“Rach,” I groan, my fist still deadlocked around her silky hair. “Were you serious when you said you wanted me to fuck your face?”
“Never more serious.” A glint of desire passes through her emerald eyes.
“Tap me twice if it’s too much.” I give her hand—the one still gripping my ass—a light tap to clarify what I mean.
She nods once more, and this time, it’s me who pushes my hips forward to take her mouth.
Both her hands grip me behind my thighs for dear life as I begin to rock into her, slowly at first, still gripping her hair like a madman. I know, deep down, that she’s the one in control; at the first sign of her having too much or at the first hint of a tap on my legs, I’m stopping immediately.
But still…
The firm hold of my fist against her hair. The sounds her mouth is making as she’s looking up at me from her knees. The way I’m slowly able to increase the speed of my hips. I’ve never felt so powerful. So in control.
And she’s the one gifting it to me.
When have I truly been in control? Not when I caved under my parents’ pressure to change jobs. Not when they hounded me over and over again to ask her to marry me, despite me knowing she didn’t particularly care about the idea of marriage.
Even falling in love with Rachel, this sweet angel, was completely out of my control.
“Oh, fuck… You good, baby?” I grunt to her, picking up speed.
She simply nods and moans against me, bringing me over the edge instantly.
White-hot flames set me ablaze, from my toes to my center, as I finally spill into her, my hips jerking involuntarily. The relief of it takes my breath away, and only when Rachel is back on her feet with her head against my chest do I remember where I am.
At Rachel’s short gasp, I remember I have legs, as shaky as they may be. My wife is partially holding me up, and at my height and weight, there’s no way she can keep that up for very long.
“Baby,” I whisper, stroking the side of her face and pulling her wet hair behind her hair. “Are you okay?”
She smiles up at me, looking sated, though I’m the one who just got off, not her. “Never better.”
“Fuck, Rachel. You took me so well.”
The image of her—and the way her mouth felt at every thrust of my hips—is going to be forever seared in my brain.
“It’s a good thing you gave in, huh?” She drops soft kisses on my chest. “See what happens when you listen to me?”
“You’re right.” I kiss her forehead and close my eyes.
The last five minutes keep replaying in my brain, and I’m still struggling to catch my breath. It’s not only about how good she made me feel, but about how freeing, how life-changing it was to hold that sense of control, for once.
For the first time in my life, I begin to think Rachel may be right about more than I gave her credit for.