Page 47 of This Woman Forever

Her dress off, my T-shirt off, my shoes, jeans, boxers all off.

All while she watches, her chest pumping.

Knickers, off.

Bra, off.

The pressure builds, my dick weeps, and I cast my eyes down her naked body, breathing out my awe. She sits up, pulling me to stand between her open thighs, and kisses my stomach as I comb through her hair with my fingers. Just her lips on my skin. Calm. I take the moment while she’s adoring my stomach with her mouth to watch her. Stillness. I look down at her.

My wife. I keep saying it, thinking it.

Can I believe it?

I don’t think I ever will.

To love her, make her smile, take care of her, protect her.

Complete.

She peeks up at me, her hands all over my torso, and pecks her way up to my neck. I close my eyes as she directs me to her mouth, helping her to climb onto me, accepting her kiss, devouring her mouth slowly and firmly. I take her into the bathroom, the place where she first surrendered to me, and step over the chaise, lowering. “We need to make friends,” I whisper, seeing her brief smile before I bring our mouths together again. “No one will ever stop me taking you, Ava.” I don’t even know what I’m saying—just speaking, throwing out declarations, making sure Ava knows who she belongs to.

“Good.”

I hiss when she tugs on my hair, my cock aching from being so hard for so long. I circle the girth, grunting, the pressure around the base easing the painful throb a little. But not much. A bead of sweat trickles down my temple. I breathe out, searching for restraint before I give in to what she wants, what she’s been trying to get out of me for weeks.

To fuck her hard and fast, without apology.

Can’t.

Releasing her mouth, I pull back, smiling on the inside at her mumble of displeasure. “My girl wants it hard.” But I can bring her round to slow and intense. Always do. It’s never any less overwhelming when we take our time. Love each other. Watch each other.

I ease her down, feeling her resistance.

“Jesse,” she gasps, shaking in my hold, fighting me.

Condom.

Really?

“Ava,” I breathe harshly, pleading. “I’m taking you now, and you’re not going to stop me with trivial fucking requests.” I tug a little harder, and the moment I have her mouth, I feel her soften, and the moment the tip of my weeping dick brushes her pussy, I feel her complete surrender. The friction could kill me, skin on skin for the first time in weeks, no condom, and no fierce refusal from Ava. My mind bends, the pleasure and sensations too intense for me to consider why now she’s allowing this. Because we’re married? Because she’s accepted the situation? I don’t know.

Her legs wrapped around my hips, she forces her boobs to my chest, moaning constantly, appreciating what we’ve both been missing for so long.

“Oh Jesus, fucking perfect,” I mumble, overcome, trying to focus on kissing her and absorbing her. I close my eyes and soak up the pleasure, feel her mouth on my neck, her nails in my arms, her sweat on my tongue as I lick the small void on her collarbone.

“Move.” Her hoarse whisper heats my flesh where her mouth rests. “Please move.”

“In time, baby.” I need to take a moment and reel myself in. “Just let me feel you for a moment.” I help her hands to my neck, my breathing becoming more labored, and I’ve not even attempted movement yet. I skim the curves of her hips, brush the back of my hand over each nipple, then stroke down and circle her waist, holding her, making sure she doesn’t move before I’m ready. Jesus, I’m struggling on every level, trying to control the deep throb in my dick, trying to control my breathing, trying to control my urge to let loose and sate us. I blow out my cheeks, grit my teeth, and slowly lift her, making sure I have a firm hold to control our moves. She follows my lead, calmly breaking away from her hiding place in my shoulder and gently feeling my chest.

“Don’t try to tell me it doesn’t feel right,” I mumble drowsily, feeling drugged but high. “Don’t try to tell me this isn’t how we’re supposed to be.” Nothing between us, whether that be a someone or something. I grind her onto me slowly, watching her sustaining the unthinkable pleasure. “Not ever.”

“Don’t come inside me,” she croaks.

“Don’t tell me what to do with your body, Ava.” I moan the words, my eyes on her parted lips, wet and inviting. “Kiss me,” I demand, now growling, my body taking over.

My head is forced back by the hardness of her kiss. She can’t get close enough, her torso pressed hard into my chest. Losing her mind. So I must keep mine.

I manipulate all the moves, lifting her, lowering her, grinding up into her.