Page 34 of Second Chance Husband

His dark hair between my legs was the most erotic thing I had ever seen, and my knees nearly buckled completely. But he kept me steady, nibbling on my flesh, before taking one hand to spread me more, using the other hand to play along my clit.

He ate and licked like he was a man starving, and when he speared me with two fingers, curling them just in the way he remembered, I couldn’t control myself, I came, my cunt clamping down on his fingers as he continued to lave at me, licking up my juices.

His beard was rough on my skin, and I knew he would leave a mark, but I wanted his mark. I wanted a memory of this moment even though I knew I should probably forget.

The orgasm shocked through me, my toes curling, my nipples hardening to stiff points. And then he was on his feet again, crushing his mouth to mine. I could taste myself on him, tart and sweet, and I groaned, pulling at his shirt. He tossed it over his head, and then I was pulling down his gray sweatpants, grateful he hadn’t bothered to put on underwear.

I had already been able to see the tip of him poking out above the waistband, and so when I gripped the base of his shaft, he groaned, pumping into my hand.

“I need you,” he groaned.

I wanted that to mean more, and yet it couldn’t mean more. I wouldn’t let it mean more.

So I nodded and let him pull me on top of the sink. And when I spread my legs, he sank into me in one thrust. Hard and fast and unyielding.

I let out a shocked gasp at the intrusion, my pussy fluttering around his dick.

“Oh!” I whispered.

He froze, his forehead resting on my shoulder as he kept me steady.

“Too hard? Did I hurt you?”

The break in his voice at that nearly sent me into tears, but I didn’t want to think about that. I couldn’t.

“No, just a surprise. Please move.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I meant in me. Fuck me, August. Please.”

He smiled then, that sweet and annoying fucking smile of his. “Look at that, Paisley begging.”

“I already got off, August. So if you’re just going to stand there, you can, but I can get myself off again.” I winked as I said it, sliding my hand over my clit. He took my wrist and pulled my hand back, before thrusting in and out of me.

“No, your orgasm is mine.”

My eyes widened. “Excuse me.”

He kissed me hard, then leaned down and bit my nipple. The sharp sting sent waves of pleasure down to my core.

“You heard me. Your orgasm is mine. Your pussy is mine. Just for now. I’m going to fuck it all night, and you’re going to take it.”

“Well, if you insist.”

This was the August I remembered. Hard and fast with that playful little smile. And so he slid deep into me, and then he was pulling out, and my feet were on the ground, and then I was facing the mirror. I gripped the edge of the counter again, and he slammed into me from behind. I met his gaze in the mirror, my mouth parting as an orgasm washed over me, but he kept moving, hands on my hips. My hair flew around, bouncing with each thrust, and he kept moving with a bruising force that was the most pleasurable touch I’d ever had in my life.

And when he came, he held me close, hands on my breasts, body touching mine, and a single tear slid down my cheek. I wiped it away before he could see it in the reflection, and then he pulled out, and we were kissing, and then we were in the tub, water splashing over the edge as he cleaned me, and then licked me, and then came inside me again.

I let him hold me, knowing that we would have to talk about this at some point.

And somehow, I found myself in his arms in the tub, letting him hold me, neither one of us speaking.

And yet for one moment, for this exact moment in time, I could breathe again. I could feel.

And this overwhelming feeling of calm, of contentedness, worried me more than any other mistake I had made in my life.

Chapter Nine

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