Page 52 of Love on the Run

“You don’t get to fear me.” He shakes me a little. “I’veneverwouldneverhurt you. How fucking dare you? I love you. Flower, you are my life.” Betrayal is rife in every word.

“I—”

“Shut the fuck up.” His eyes are black diamonds, hard, unyielding, cold, unforgiving.

My mouth snaps shut. My eyes sting. We’ve talked about my tears and how they gut him. We’ve talked about my emotions. We talk about how he can love me better. We talked and talked and talked. It dawns on me then that we’ve had yet to live this new life — this new beginning.

I stop my go to reaction. I just stop and see. See the pain in my husband. See how hard he’s worked in loving me. How far he’s come. All the work he’s done to mend our marriage and how much of himself he’s given. Then I think to my recent gripe. My recent spiel to the therapist knowing that she would tell him what I could not. I realize too late it is a gross break in theprivacy my husband holds so dear. How much he’s given of his intensely private self in order to help me heal.

This is something I should have trust him with. Instead, I brought an emissary between us when all I had to do was tell him what I needed and he would have complied.

Looking into the onyx abyss of his gaze, I swallow past my trepidation. “I know why you’re angry. I should have come to you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I know better. I got too comfortable.” I touch the hard unyielding visage of his face before I drop to my knees bowing for this grave dishonor to my husband.

“Imagine my surprise when the therapist informed me, how I was neglecting my wife. How she lamented over my milk toast response to her lusciousness. How I was neglecting to her tight little pussy. How she longed for the taste of my come, the burn of my belt and palm. How I left her wanting to for my hand necklace.”

Keeping my head bowed, I hid my smile hearing the cadence and timbre of his voice.

Slowly his hand wraps around the topknot I put my hair in earlier.

“I gave face to your therapist.” Slowly he twines my hair in his fist lifting me. “Now, you will give me yours.” His hold raises me to my knees. “Your mouth.” Higher past his knees. “Your throat.” To his knees.

His dick is jutting beautifully against the front on his pants. “Take me out.”

That’s all the instruction I need. I do as he demands.

His hard heavy dick rises well past his waist but drifts to the left as always. Rising higher I level it with my mouth, taking him in his into my mouth.

“Fuuuuuck yes,” he growls. He doesn’t move, doesn’t thrust giving me time to adjust. He is delicious. All man. Snaking mytongue around the head, I lick him with my tongue, taking my time savoring every delectable inch of him until he’s wet and come his dripping from his slit.

Again and again like his head as come seeps from the tip. He’s everything sweet, salty and spice. Taking my time, I savor every drop he gives me. My husband is delicious. His hand flexes in my hair but he doesn’t thrust letting me have my way.

Sliding my tongue along the length I make sure not to miss nary a ridge. He’s been so patient, so kind…

Dipping lower I suck his sac into my mouth rolling his balls on my tongue.

“Damn, girl,” he arches into my mouth letting me do as I please. Inside I’m giggling an kicking my feet finally getting the change to pleasure him.

Lower still I lick. He grasps my head then keeping me there letting me fuck him with my artful tongue.

Shuddering he releases my hair to grip the base of his dick. “You’re about to make me come, wife.” His breath saws in and out as he pulls away.

Hiding my smile, I duck my head kissing from one leg to the other from ankle thigh. He’s all citrus, spice and the heady musk of man.

“Fuuuck,” he groans when I take him again. I go as far back as I can until he touches the back of my throat but still it’s not enough. Easing back out until his head emerges with a loud pop, I look upi with a challenge dancing in my eyes.

“You gave face, husband. Now fuck mine, unless you need to use our safe word.”

I see the moment surprise gives way to resolve.

“Just make sure you don’t use it my little cumslut, not even when they hear your scream and come running to save your little ass.” He grounds out his words like sharp knives skating over my sensitive flesh.

There is something about his words that makes my tummy drop and my pussy tingle. I can’t fathom why or how he does this to me, why I love it so much or how I ended up loving a villain more than I love the man he tried to be for me for so long.

The realization hits me and when it does it heals more than years the of therapy — there doesn’t need to be an explanation it just is; we just are. Tow imperfect being doing our damnedest to love each other the best we can and that is enough. We are enough.

Letting the smile spread across my face I look up to hard gaze. “You promise?”

Strong tapered finger spear into my hair steadying me. “Open your fucking mouth,wife.” The guttural words have my essence leaking from me as I do exactly as he commands.

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