Page 182 of Seizing Control: Part One

My husband tosses the second piece of toast back on my plate, then he reclines with his arms braced on the breakfast island behind him. From my position opposite, I have a bird’s eye view of his muscles in all their glory. I slowly chew, taking my time, swallowing in a suggestive way that makes him growl. When I finish the final slice, I pull the dishwasher open, and keep my legs straight and my arse out, exposing the bottom of my butt cheeks in my tiny sleep shorts, as I bend to add my dishes to the machine.

“Bloody hell, you’re a tease, duchess.” Before I can straighten, Slash is behind me. His arm curls around my waist, and he lifts me off my feet. Careful of my stomach, he carries me into the laundry and closes the door. Setting me down on top of the washing machine, my husband pushes my legs apart, then steps between them. “Needa be inside you.”

We’re both wild with need, arms moving fast, fingers grasping at our clothing without finesse, as we free our bottom halves. I lose another pair of panties in Slash’s rush, the quick burn over my hip bones when he tears them off just adds to the urgency. Waistband of his sweatpants halfway down his thighs, my husband fists his cock. He notches the pierced head at my entrance. Swiping the engorged tip along my slit, he uses his other hand to take hold of my nape.

Pulling my forehead to his, the big man peers deep in my eyes. “Love you, wife.”

“I love you, t-oo.” My breathless reply ends on a stutter when he slides inside me. I tilt my hips, accepting his hard length until he’s filled me. The delicious stretch and burn, the feel of my husband claiming me makes my eyes roll back in my head. “God. Yes.” One arm looped around his neck, I dig my heels into the globes of his arse, urging him to move. “Fuck me.”

“Nah,” he drawls laconically. I widen my eyes, warning in my expression. Slash chuckles. “I’m makin’ love to you this time.”

“Yeah?”

He sees the challenge in my face. It makes him smirk. We’ve had sex a dozen times since he finally unleashed his darkness at the compound, but every time Slash has tried to take it easy on me, I’ve managed to break his resolve. I’m not in the headspace for making love. Not when I continue to battle my guilt over Zeke.

Moving on this fast.

Finding this level of immediate contentment.

It’s not right.

Part of my soul continues to deny reality, and I have to remind myself every morning, once Slash has left our bed, that I’m not truly betraying Zeke with my love for my husband. He’s dead. Gone. As much animosity of there was between the two men I love the last time I saw them in the same room together, I have to believe that Zeke would be happy that I’m with his best friend.

This marriage was his idea.

Out of everyone, Slash was the person Zeke trusted to look after me.

Logically, I can see the sense of the situation.

Still, if my heart and soul would get on board with my head, I’d feel a lot better about things.

“Where’d you go?” His tone is strangled. “Is it the baby?”

Realising that I’ve closed my eyes, and my body has stiffened, I gasp and shake my head. The breath catches in my chest—in the gaping cavern formed by Zeke’s death—and I make a choking sound. Slash withdraws his cock to the tip, almost freeing himself, but I manage to keep him inside of me by locking my legs around his waist.

“Where are you going, mister?” I joke. The sight of his ambivalence when we lock gazes is devastating. I loosen my knees. Pushing at his chest, I makes him move back so I can drop to my feet. When he reaches to pull his sweatpants back into place, I slap his hand. With my husband’s hard length in my hand, I lower to my knees. “Stand still.”

My order confuses him until I circle my tongue around the ridge of his cock.

“Baby.” The hand that lands on top of my head is unsure. “You don’t have to... let me... I can’t.”

I know what Slash wants, a spiritual connection while we join physically, but I can’t give that to him right now. My emotions are too raw. If I’m going to avoid hurting him, stop from making him feel second best, even though I love him just as much as I love Zeke, he needs to follow my lead. Allow me to direct things. I don’t want to ask him for space because I’m too afraid that he’ll run if I do. At the same time, I can’t let him all the way into my psyche until I trust him fully again.

Slash’s promises are my stabilising foundation at the moment.

Everything in this new life I’m building without Zeke rests on a solitary premise.

My husband will not lie to me, keep secrets from me, or leave me again.

I can’t risk doing something that makes him break those promises.

“I don’t want?—”

“Yes, you do.” I cut off his protests with a sultry dispute. Looking up at Slash through my lashes, I smile sweetly. “Let me love you.” When I work his cock, my thumb flicking the metal bar through his frenulum, a shudder runs through his body. I lap at his engorged head with my flattened tongue. “You taste like me... and you... combined.”

“Fuck, duchess.” Goosebumps break out over the big man’s skin. The hand in my hair tenses. A sting radiates over my scalp when he uses his grip to hold me in place while he feeds me his dick, one inch at a time. His thumb brushes over the corner of my mouth, stretching my lips out even further as he hits the back of my throat. “Look at you. Kneelin’ in front of me... willin’ to choke on my cock to avoid makin’ love to me.”

As he calls me out, my heart sinks.

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