46. London
Was there a pleasanter way to wake up than to my husband pressed against my back and his hand down my underwear, his fingers rolling over my clit?
No, I think not.
It was a perfectly delicious way to greet a new day, especially since we hadn’t had sex in the two weeks since I’d fallen down a flight of stairs.
I’d wanted to, but Murray was still afraid I wasn’t healed enough.
I’d promised him I was and felt like I was wearing him down.
Then last night Murray had a gig with the guys at the Lantern, and I’d fallen asleep before he came home.
Apparently, we were done with the wait this morning.
“Yes,” I moaned, arching into his touch now.
“A ghràidh,” he groaned in my ear. “I’ve missed you.”
I panted, “I’ve missed you too.”
Seconds later he’d donned protection and pushed his cock into me, my underwear and sleep shorts pushed just far enough down my thighs to give him access.
I gasped, turning my mouth into my outstretched arm to muffle the sound as Murray rocked inside me.
I’d never had sex on my side before and the angle of his penetration was …
the man was hitting my G spot for sure, because the answering coiling tension was too fast, too much, too everything!
He gripped my face, turning my head so he could take my mouth.
Murray’s tongue licked at mine, and his cock kept hitting that perfect bundle of nerves with every gentle thrust. He slid his fingers over my clit and I broke the kiss, struggling to draw breath as sensation overtook me.
His lips moved to my ear. “We’re alone,” he reminded me roughly. “You can be as loud as you want.”
I’d forgotten that Kelly had spent the night at her friend’s house.
I let out a guttural moan that made Murray’s hips flex faster against my ass. “Yes,” he huffed harshly. “Fuck, yes.”
I grasped at his arm as his hand rubbed hard at my clit, my cries growing louder, hoarser, and it seemed to make Murray lose his ever-loving mind. The gentle rocking turned to deep, grunting thrusts, pushing me closer and closer to the precipice.
“Murray!” I cried out as explosion spread through my center.
My inner muscles pulsed around his hardness as I came but as quickly as the sensation started, Murray withdrew. I found myself flipped onto my stomach. “Is this okay?” He growled in my ear, his hands braced above my head on the pillow.
I shivered with excitement and nodded on a moan, one that grew louder as he grabbed my hip with one hand and jerked my ass up into his thrust. Just like that my orgasm grew into another, my cries of pleasure filling the room as I braced myself on my elbows and took him deep.
Until Murray I didn’t know fucking could be this intimate.
But I always felt close to him, whether he was staring into my eyes or taking me hard on all fours.
“A ghràidh,” he groaned. “I need …” His words trailed off.
“Say it,” I begged, wanting him to be as free with me as I felt with him. I knew he held back, always checking in, but I was safe with him. I trusted him.
“I … fuck, I just … I need you to come around me. Squeeze me like before.”
My inner muscles clenched around him and he smoothed a hand down my damp back.
“We good?”
“Mmm.” I nodded frantically, pushing against his drives.
“Do you know how hard you make me, woman? I feel like a teenager again, aching for your tight, wet heat all day, every day.”
I cried out at his words, the tension coiling tighter, tighter … He’d been holding back for sure. Glancing over my shoulder, I stared up at him, flushed and panting. “Murray!”
Murray’s gaze was fierce, harsh with desire. “I want to spend all day inside you. I want to feel you come around my cock.”
Just like that, I did, slumping onto my stomach as the waves took me.
Murray swelled and throbbed, shuddering against my ass, following me into the climax.
We collapsed onto the bed, Murray still inside me, pulsing with the little aftershocks against my own. My husband smoothed a hand up my back, over my cami, to sweep my hair off my sticky neck. He peppered kisses across my shoulders, his beard tickling me.
“You trust me,” he stated, his voice filled with awe.
I eased off him so I could turn in his arms, lifting my thigh over his so I could bury close. “Fully and always.” Smoothing my hand through his beard, I shivered with building need. “You make me insatiable. I want you inside me again.”
He laughed softly as I kissed at his throat, a place that seemed to be connected to his cock for the way it turned him on. “I hate to admit it, but I’m not twenty years old, and I do need a wee bit of time between sessions.”
I grinned at his abashed confession. “Well, there are other things you could do to please me.”
He wriggled his eyebrows comically, before dashing from the bed into the bathroom to deal with the condom.
When he returned my amusement soon transformed into renewed moans as he crawled over my body and whipped off my underwear, spreading my thighs.
He licked me voraciously from entrance to clit and my back bowed off the bed.
My husband ate at me, hungry and passionate, sucking at my clit and rubbing his tongue over it, unrelenting as he licked me through another orgasm only to keep going, demanding more. I moaned and panted and yelled my pleasure until I almost blacked out with the third orgasm.
“Can I take you bare?” Murray asked, voice hoarse with need as he pulled off my cami, helping me with the fabric because I was a flushed puddle of want.
He knew I was on the pill and that I’d had a health check since Nick. He’d also had a health check since his last (and final) one-night stand.
So it was just a matter of us trusting each other.
Which we, of course, did.
I nodded, tugging him to me. Murray kissed me hard as he fell between my thighs and guided his cock inside. We groaned together because I was swollen and tight. The wet sound of our joining sent us into a fever and Murray gritted his teeth against his demanding lust.
“Do I feel good bare?”
“So good, a ghràidh. Too good.”
I clenched around him.
“Oh fuck, that isn’t helping.”
I did it again, urging him deeper with a flex of my hips.
“You feel … you’re everything,” he confessed breathlessly as he moved inside me, holding my eyes with his stormy, passion-filled gaze. “I love you so much, London. I never thought …” He shook his head like he didn’t have the words. “I never thought …”
“I know.” I reached for him, clasping his face in my hand, my touch reassuring as I undulated beneath him, taking him deep, deep into me in every way I could. “I know, handsome. I feel it too. Just come. I want you to come. I love you.”
Just like that my words made his expression tighten, his body tensing over mine before his hips gave a violent jerk. “I love you!” His cock throbbed hard as I felt him release inside me. He muttered more love words between curse words as he shook and shivered above me, his climax epic.
I felt kind of smug about it.
As if he read my feelings on my face, Murray released a soft laugh before he kissed me slowly, leisurely, and then pulled out, watching his exit with a groan. I felt his cum between my thighs and Murray’s gaze was hot when it met mine.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He gently helped me off the bed to guide me into his big shower.
My husband was gentle and loving as he washed my body with his shower gel, his large hands moving over my breasts, caressing as he cleaned. By the time he’d washed between my thighs, I was a panting, needy thing all over again.
Murray obliged, lowering to his knees to take me with his mouth and hands.
I felt worshiped and essential in a way I’d never imagined I’d ever feel.
Everything we’d dealt with for the past few months, years even, floated away, abandoned for now. There was nothing but me and this beautiful man.
It would go down in history as one of the best mornings of my entire existence.