Page 10 of Selah's Wish

Could I argue with him and insist he put me down? He absolutely would, without any arguments. However, my man needs this intimacy with me so I won’t deny him this. I already have a program running that’ll start doing searches on Joceline’s husband. It’ll store that information and I can browse through it tomorrow.

The kids went down not too long ago, every one of them were drowsy once we got home. There hasn’t been a peep coming from either of the bedrooms so I know they’re passed out. They’ve had a few busy days here lately and were feeling the draw of exhaustion since it quickly pulled them under.

Once I’m carted over the threshold of our bedroom, Butcher slowly lowers me down his muscular body, the friction of our shirts cavalierly brushing against my erect nipples has a mutedmoan escaping my lips. When our hips meet, I’m met with the steel erection of his dick. The mere thought of possessing one another has fueled us both with desire. Butcher walks me backward until my backside is flush with the wall.

The passion and fire in his eyes makes me want to shred his clothes and mount him. The same look he’s wearing must be mirrored by me because without any words spoken between us, he leans forward and slams his lips onto mine. Butcher doesn’t do anything halfway, when he does something, he does it with a flare.

When he rips himself away from me, he utters one single word, “Mine.” Before I get the chance to blink, he’s on me again. His hands are roaming beneath my shirt, he lightly brushes my skin until his hands find my breast. He cups them and massages them, plucking my nipples. “Strip for me, baby girl.”

As I rip my shirt over my head and toss it to the ground, he repeats my movement. Next, I unbutton my jeans and slip them down my legs, and again, he does the exact same thing I do. This occurs with each article of clothing I remove until we’re both standing naked before each other.

“So goddamn beautiful,” he rustles out, his voice deep and guttural, but comes out no louder than a whisper. He drops to his knees and pushes me back against the drywall. He pushes my legs tightly together then takes his fingers and spreads my labia open with his thumbs. “Look at this pretty pink clit of yours. It’s just begging for my mouth to suck on it.”

“Yes,” I moan, my fingers embedding themselves in his hair.

When he flattens his tongue and licks on that bundle of nerves, my eyes cross. He laves that section for fuck knows how longsince I’ve lost all sense of time before he sucks it into his mouth, manipulating it with his tongue. He takes one of his hands away from cupping my ass and slides it between my thighs. He instinctively knows that I’m feeling empty and inserts two of his digits inside of me. He scissors his fingers before locating my G-spot where he quickly begins adding a savage amount of pressure to it, causing my hips to buck.

“Butcher,” I whimper, knowing that even if I were to beg, there’s no guarantee he’d give it to me. My man does everything on his own timeline, and sometimes, that means he edges me a little. The only reason I don’t whine and simper about it, is because no matter how long it takes for me to get there, it’s always a memorable experience.

Once I detonate on his tongue, he pulls back and looks up at me, he has a smug smirk on his face, looking like the cat who got his cream. “On the bed, Lah.”

Stripped of speech and all cognitive thoughts, I nod my head and on shaky legs, I walk over to the mattress and crawl on it. When I make it to the middle of it, I situate myself in his favorite position.

The perfect submissive pose.

I never thought after my past I’d find myself here, willingly submitting to an alpha male. But Butcher has accomplished a feat I thought would always be impossible—he makes me feel safe, cherished, and secure, even in such a vulnerable position.

EIGHT

Butcher

This amazing womanof mine makes me feel like the king of a castle. Her imminent trust in me still astounds me to this day. After the life she lived before we found one another should’ve made this an impossible task.

Vulnerability isn’t a stance you’ll find her in often or voluntarily—only with me, and only in our bedroom where nobody can witness her giving into her innermost hidden desire. To be conquered, branded, and most of all, loved because everything between us is full of nothing less.

“Fuck. What you do to me, woman,” I acknowledge, putting my knees on the bed and shuffling my way to her.

“I give myself to you willingly and freely because I love and trust you, Butcher,” she states, wiggling her ass in the air.

If there’s ever been an invitation so enticing and encompassing, I can’t remember it.

All I can see is her.

My life.

My everything.

My Selah, offering herself to me with no trepidation.

“Damn, Lah. You make me crazy sometimes,” I admit, lining the head of my dick up with her opening and slowly pushing myself inside of her sheath.

Before her, I wasn’t a man who shared my emotions with others, I held them close to my chest. She’s opened the vault that held them locked inside and they pour out in rivulets whenever she says something so damn sweet it makes my teeth ache.

My breath hitches alongside hers when I bottom out inside of her. Tilting my head back to where I’m staring at the ceiling, I take a brief second to get myself under control so I don’t shoot my load before shifting my hips and beginning a steady pace of plunging inside of her. I draw back until only the tip is inside of her before thundering back in.

“Yes.” Selah hisses, burying her face deeper into the pillow. My fingers dig into her sides, where I’m sure she’ll be wearing my prints tomorrow, and swivel my midsection, hitting every nerve ending inside of her.

As I pick up the pace and become lost in a rut like haze, I start chasing our combined pleasure.

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