Page 69 of Smitten with the Single Dad

He scooped her up by the butt, hugging her to his front, and she locked her ankles around his back as he slowly brought them to the floor, cradling her headin his hand.

One of those spongy kitchen fatigue mats kept her head from meeting the unforgiving tile as he lowered himself over her.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” she said. “You were just in an accident.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about what I can and can’t do.” He kissed her sweetly and she spread her legs for him, but when he paused and the tip of his cock was just at her entrance, she met his gaze. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“I have an implant in my arm,” she said. “It’s birth control. I’ve had it for two years and it’s good for five.”

His brows furrowed. “That’s a thing?”

She nodded. “Way less invasive than an IUD. But … it doesn’t prevent STDs. I am clean though. I haven’t been with anyone since I arrived in America.”

“I am clean too. It’s been … years for me.”

Their gazes met for a moment, and something very raw and real passed between them.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she nodded and tilted her hips up, inviting him inside her. Slowly, almost painfully so, he lowered himself down to her, sinking into her body and filling her up. The stretch pulled out a moan from the depths of her throat as her body acclimatized to his size. Every inch of her was touched, and when he started to move … that soft, wet, warm friction had her brain and body buzzing like a beehive that just woke up from a long winter’s nap.

With his forearms resting on the mat beside her head, their noses nearly touched. His movements remained leisurely, and yet there was nothing lazy about it. Wyatt was very aware of everything he was doing, and that was taking his time. Savoring her. Savoring this.

Neither of them went into this unaware of how it was going to drastically change things. And yet, she knew there was no way she couldn’t. She wanted Wyatt with every cell of her body and had for some time. The fact that he wanted her too just made her heart soar in ways it never had before. Yes, this complicatedthings and made it messier. But sometimes you needed to make a mess to create a masterpiece. To create beauty. And this moment, here, now, with Wyatt in the muted light of the early morning, was nothing shy of pure beauty.

“Open your eyes,” he demanded, his voice slightly strained and all kinds of sexy and husky.

She blinked open her eyes to find him staring right into her soul. With every flex and tilt of his hips, her body climbed to a new, unimaginable height of pleasure. Even in the shadows of her two previous orgasms she was ready for this one. For where their bodies were one. Connected. Consumed.

It was their wedding night for goodness sake, and her husband was cherishing her in a way she never thought possible.

But the longer she studied his gaze, the more she could see that he was pushing through some kind of pain or discomfort.

This position wasn’t serving him the way it should. He’d just been in a car accident, and although his body was probably numbed from pain medication, something was off.

“Wyatt, stop,” she said, pressing her hands into his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Panic flitted across his face. “Am I hurting you?”

She shook her head. “Never. It all feels … amazing. But …” He’d argue if she brought up the fact that he was in pain. He was a proud man and didn’t want her to think he was incapable of fulfilling such a basic and primal need. “I want to be on top.”

Smiling, he nodded and pulled out of her, sitting back on his knees.

“Sit back against the cupboard,” she ordered, scrambling up and straddling him when he did as he was told. Then she sunk down, taking him back inside her, unable to stop the moan that rumbled up from deep in her chest.

He cupped her breast and brought his mouth to her nipple, latching onto a tight, tender bud and scissoring his teeth over it until she gasped.

Slowly, she lifted onto her knees, then dropped back down, taking him all the way inside her and reveling in his groan of pleasure. In the way his bodyfit so perfectly inside hers. His free hand found her hip and he pressed down, encouraging her to take even more of him. She did her best, loving how he filled her up, and the way his pelvic bone ground against her clit. It was still a snug fit and when she lifted up again, she knew the climax was close.

Their gazes locked once more, her hands on his shoulders for balance as she lifted up again. “My wife,” he said, his voice strained.

She swallowed and smiled. “My husband.” She wasn’t prepared for that sudden full-body quiver, or the way it traveled through her and into him. His eyes shuttered for a moment, and she could see the last threads of his restraint snapping.

Squeezing her muscles as hard as she could, she took her sweet time dropping down, taking absolutely every millimeter of him she could. His body went stiff beneath hers, then his moan filled the kitchen as his chest rose and fell rapidly while he found his release and poured himself inside her. Tipping her hips just a little to change up the angle, his lower abs grazed her clit just right and, combined with the pulsing of his cock inside her against her walls, she found what she coveted: sweet release.

Their foreheads met as they came together, the pleasure unleashing between them, passing back and forth through their joined bodies. His breath mixed with hers. His arms banded around her body, holding her to him, like he never wanted to let her go.

And she didn’t want him to.

Every pulse of his cock pitched her own climax higher, and when his fingers dug gently but firmly into her ribcage, it was all she could do not to cry out in pure ecstasy. Her lips parted and just a strangled, squeak of a sound came out as her chest, pressed tightly to his, expanded with each ragged breath.

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