Page 71 of Just Say When

All this time.

All this fucking time.

What was I supposed to do with that information? I couldn’t process it. Couldn’t begin to understand what it meant for us then, and what it meant for us now. His chest heaved as he watched me, waiting, his expression a little unsure. My body was strung taut, demanding the release he had repeatedly denied me, and I…I couldn’t think. Only feel.

My fingertips traced the familiar lines of the tattoo. The sharp peaks of the cupid’s bow. The full lower lip that dipped into a pout. My mouth. My kiss.

On this man.

My god, this man. My best friend. My husband. I was so deeply in love with him that I couldn’t find the beginning or the end of it. It had simply always been a part ofme, and even when I tried to cut him out, I hadn’t been able to.

And now I knew that I had been a part of him, too.

All this fucking time.

“Please fuck me, husband.” It was half command, half plea.

With a groan of relief, he ran the fat crown of his dick up and down my slit, pressing it hard against my clit with each pass. Teasing me until I was soaking wet again. Pushing in an inch, both of us watching my body stretch for him, before pulling it back out.

My desperation grew. “Please, Brax. I can’t take any more.”

He chuckled darkly. “Yes, you can.”

Sweat glistened on his forehead and a muscle ticked in his jaw. I wasn’t the only one he was torturing. That might have made me feel better, if I wasn’t out of my damn mind with lust.

“You want me to fuck you, wife?” he rasped.

“Yes,” I begged.

For a moment, I thought he might refuse me again and I would be forced to murder him. Shoot flames out of my eyeballs and incinerate him on the spot, until there was nothing left but a pile of ash.

Maybe he sensed that I had really and truly come to the end of my rope, because this time he slid inside me all the way to the hilt, until his pelvis met mine.

And then he moved. Slowly.

So fucking slowly.

Apparently, he wasn’t done torturing me, after all.

I could feel every part of him stuffed inside of me. Every ridge, every vein, every time he pulsed when I squeezed my internal muscles around his thick cock. The slow, relentless thrusts turned me wild. I wrapped my legs around his hips, dug my heels into his ass. Scratched my nails down his veined forearms.

On and on, the pressure built.

I lifted my hips to meet his thrusts, trying to convince him to go faster. He responded and snapped his hips forward faster and harder. Kissed me hard on the mouth. His hips slammed roughly against mine with a slapping noise before he eased off again, returning to the slow, deep thrusts.

“Brax!” I sobbed. “Please.”

His hips stilled, his chest heaving, perspiration dotting his muscular torso. His eyes found mine with a laser-like intensity that felt magnetic. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to.

I didn’t want to. I never wanted to.

“Tell me you’re mine, Essie.” He bent forward, capturing my left hand. His thumb rubbed the metal band. “Say it.”

I didn’t hesitate, even though it hurt to say it out loud. “I’m yours. Always yours.”

Satisfaction flared in his blue eyes, and finally he let go. One hand slipped between our bodies to find my clitand he rubbed hard as he fucked me hard enough to make the bedposts scrape against the wooden floor with every thrust of his hips.

“Mine,” he said roughly as we fell apart in each other’s arms and he spilled inside me.

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