52. Epilogue #4
“I know.” I looked up at her, one hand spread firmly over her thigh, my thumb pressing into the crease where her leg met her hip. “And now I’m done being patient. I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name.”
She bit her bottom lip, her eyes glazing with lust.
Fucking perfect.
I kissed my way up her body, then I nipped at her collarbone, sucking a mark into the skin above her cleavage. By the time I reached her mouth again, she was breathing hard, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
“Tell me,” I said hoarsely, my forehead on hers, and our breath mingling. “What do you want tonight?”
Her eyes met mine, heavy-lidded and fearless.
“You,” she whispered. “The filthy, impossible version of you who’s been pretending to behave all day. And your cock buried deep inside me, making me yours again.”
My smile turned wicked against her lips.
“Fuck, Léa. Sweet mouth, filthy mouth…I love every fucking version of you.”
Then I kissed her again—deeper, messier—my teeth catching on her lower lip before I soothed it with my tongue, sucking it into my mouth. Her back bowed under me with a broken sound that went straight through my spine and straight to my throbbing cock.
I pulled back, dragging my tie free from where it hung loose around my collar. Her eyes followed the movement instantly, darkening further.
“Orion—”
“Mm?”
“You’re smiling.”
“I know.”
I took her wrists, brought them together over her head, and wrapped the silk around them once, then again, drawing it snug enough to make her arch into me, her breasts pressing against my chest.
“There,” I murmured, testing the knot with my fingers before trailing my mouth along the line of her throat, my tongue tracing her pulse. “Much better.”
Her breath caught hard, a shiver running through her. “You enjoy tormenting me far too much.”
“And you love that about me.”
Her answer came out on a gasp when I bit softly beneath her ear and dragged my tongue over the sting, my free hand sliding over her breast, thumb brushing her nipple through the dress.
My hand moved between us, higher, and her thighs opened for me on instinct, spreading wide and giving me access to the ache between them.
“My sweet wife,” I praised, my eyes locked on her panties soaked and clinging to her folds, “always reacting so perfectly to me.”
She pulled once at the tie, to test how tight the restraint was.
I could tell by the look in her eyes that she liked it too much.
I kissed her again to swallow the filthy moan that escaped her from my fingers teasing her lace, then pulled back long enough to look at her tied up for me, flushed, already unraveling with hardly any effort at all.
“This christening dress,” I rasped, my fingers hooking into her panties and dragging them aside to expose her glistening heat. “Still pretending you wore it not knowing exactly what that would do to me.”
Her breathing was uneven, a whine escaping. “Maybe I did.”
A dark laugh rumbled out of me. “Then you can lie there,” I said into her mouth, my fingers circling her clit slowly, “and let me show you what your bad decisions earn you.” Then lower, barely a whisper I added: I’m going to fuck you in that dress.
When I’m done, I’ll rip it off and start all over. ”
Her darkened eyes peered at me, and the look on her face nearly undid me on the spot. I was so hard I could barely think.
I reached up to the strap to pull it down, to get a taste of her peaked breasts.
“How attached are you to this dress, Maia.” I asked, my voice barely holding up.
“Very. It's from the new collection Celeste and I are working on.”
My jaw clenched, a brutal pulse of heat slamming through my groin. The more she valued the garment, the more I craved the sight of it marked by my release.
“How about the first time I fuck you, I spill over the dress so anytime you look at it, you'll always remember this moment.” I pulled my shirt over my head in one rough motion, then reached for my trousers, working the button free with deliberate care.
The sound of the zip echoed through the hushed room as I freed my cock—heavy, flushed, already slick at the tip from the hours of strain. “You'll never stop aching for me.”
“Never,” she whispered.
Her eyes dropped to my cock. Her lips parted like she was seeing it again for the first time, as if she hadn't owned it all these years. The undisguised hunger in her eyes made my cock jerk visibly, the involuntary twitch dragging a fractured sound from my throat.
Her response fueled the fire in my veins. I sank to my knees, guiding myself to her entrance, the head pressing against her slick heat.
I kissed her deeply, possessively, my hand finding its way to her throat as I felt the frantic beat of her heart echoing my own obsession.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I reminded myself Henrik might need her later, that I’d have to check on Aurora before the night was done.
But first, I needed to make my wife happy.
Outside, the house had finally gone still. Upstairs, behind a locked door, I bent over my wife and thanked God for every long, difficult road that had led me back to her.
Before the night was over, I made sure she thanked me too.