13 Cate #3
“No,” I say, playfully pushing his shoulder. “I’m not role-playing, Shane. This is me saying this for real. We can’t do this. You’ll get worked up, and blood starts rushing to other places instead of where it needs to send the white blood cells so you can heal.”
“I love listening to you talk about my dick.”
“Well, it wasn’t specifically about your—”
“Shh. Just keep going on about blood rushing to other parts, Nurse.”
“And here I thought I was the terrible one.” I laugh, but as soon as he starts kissing along my jaw, I go quiet. When he tugs the lobe of my ear into his mouth, the scrape of his teeth has my body squirming and reconsidering my stance altogether.
“We can’t.” I close my eyes, relishing his mouth on me.
I’m licked along my jawline, causing me to forget myself.
“Hear me out. What if we,” he whispers in my ear, “take care of you instead?”
When he slips his hand over my shoulder, I know where he’s headed.
I could stop him, but I don’t want to. I want this.
I want this man and his big hands all over and inside me.
I want him so badly that I can’t think straight.
“Okay.” I’m not even sure what I’m agreeing to, but I’m more than happy to find out.
He kisses my mouth once more. I stop him before he goes lower and kiss him with as much passion right back. Our mouths take ownership of each other’s, and our tongues embrace into a slow dance to match the pace of our bodies. A grind here and rubbing there.
I lean back, grasping for air and needing to see him. Look at the way his eyes drink me in so deeply that there’s nothing left of me but desire. Breaking all my rules never felt so good.
Shane starts down my body, kissing over my shirt and my peaking nipples, over my ribs and swirls his tongue in my belly button.
But when he shifts his entire body under the covers, and his hands are on either side of my hips, tugging my shorts down, I lie there staring up at the ceiling, ready to beg for mercy and fist pump in celebration equally.
Before my shorts reach my ankles, he’s kissing and then licking the bend of my leg and going south from there.
Pushing my legs farther apart, he shoulders his way to where he wants to be.
Without warning, his nose dips, then his tongue licks through my lips.
My mind goes blank when he stops, the bridge of his nose pressing against me.
I close my eyes and enjoy the sweet torture of him inhaling me into his lungs.
Seconds. Minutes. Hours. I lose track of time when he begins ravaging with his tongue. It’s been too long and feels too good. I buck my hips, taking on his chaos as he consumes me whole.
Fingers replace his tongue, and he fucks me with little foreplay.
Other than a few kisses, he left me wanton for more.
I push against his hand, getting closer to the edge with every thrust. But it’s when his tongue flattens against my clit, claiming me as his through whispers and licks, that I fall so fast I fumble into ecstasy.
The stars shine before I land and bounce back to reality. I should be embarrassed for how little that took—a look, a kiss, so much connecting us that I lost myself in him.
He flips the covers up, and our eyes find each other in the dark. I find myself, the girl who used to dream, is now the woman who went after what she wanted.
I feel too good to worry about how this looks to the outside world. Instead, in this bed, what Shane thinks is all that matters to me.
Looking at me as he climbs up my body, his blue eyes shine like the devil escaped Alcatraz. He holds himself above me, his penis hard and prominent against my leg, then dips down to kiss me again. “You taste fucking amazing, babe.”
My soul was pilfered for safekeeping with his, and a bag of bones is all that’s left of me. Sliding my hands on either side of his head, I encourage him to let me bear the weight and to kiss him of my own accord as if we have all the time in the world.
Left breathless once more, I fall back, my head hitting the soft pillow and my body feeling like it’s returning to life.
I reach down, wanting him to feel as good as I do, but my hand is caught and brought to his mouth. He kisses my fingers and my palm. “When I come, it will be inside you.” The words are firm, but his tone dances between a command and the deep tone that makes me weak in the knees.
He kisses me once more and then turns us, me spinning around with swiftness. He curls me in his arms from behind, my back to the strong beat of his heart pumping in his chest. Every breath of his brushes across my skin, leaving goose bumps in the wake.
I want to talk to him and ask a million questions about what happens next, but I listen to his breathing even as sleep sets in. There’s no rush for tomorrow when there’s so much to enjoy about the here and now. We have time for the heavier conversations in daylight.
I almost fall asleep as well, but I force myself to stay awake a little longer—not only to check on him to make sure he’s safe with the concussion but because I want to savor everything about this night with him.
While he’s still my husband.