Page 58 of Second Chance Husband

When I was nearly there, needing to come again, he pulled out of me, and then went back to kneeling behind me.

“What are you…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, because then his mouth was on me, and he was licking me up, one lick, then a second. He ate me from behind, devouring me, and I just pushed my ass back to his face, needing him.

I didn’t want to think about words and forevers and where we were going after this. I just wanted this moment.

We didn’t have to have feelings or thoughts or any future promises. We just needed this moment.

Because if there was anything we were ever good at, it was this.

Fucking and pretending.

He stood up, his pants below his ass, he pulled me with him, and then pressed my back against the wall. I lifted my legs, holding onto him for purchase, and then he was slamming into me, my legs wrapped around his waist. I met him move for move, needing him. He lowered his head slightly, lapping at my nipples, before taking my mouth again, and I was tugging on his shirt, knowing I was leaving creases. But I didn’t care.

I just needed him in that moment.

When he came, moaning my name into my mouth, I ignored the tears sliding down my cheeks.

Because I didn’t want this to end. Even though I knew it had to. I couldn’t let this end.

I needed to tell him I loved him. That I wanted him. That I wasn’t afraid that he would leave.

But I knew that was a lie.

When he leaned back and frowned, I quickly went to wipe my face, but he grabbed my wrist.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Paise…”

I smiled at him then, the sound of my nickname on his lips bringing me to tears once again.

Why couldn’t this be forever? Why did I feel as if I was losing who I had once been?

Why hadn’t I been enough before?

And why did I feel as if I were to ask the question, I wouldn’t find out the answer that I would want.

“I just wasn’t expecting this to happen this morning.”

He studied my face, and while I hadn’t lied, I hadn’t told him the whole truth. “Paise.”

“We need to get you ready. I’m glad I brought you a second shirt. Just in case the lighting of the room was not perfect for the shirt you had before.”

He rolled his eyes at me, and I was grateful that I had distracted him with my nonsense.

“You made me bring two shirts because you were afraid that I would match? They’re both white.”

“One is ivory, the other is pale snow. There’s a difference.”

He was still balls deep within me, his cock pulsing. This was such a ridiculous conversation, but anything not to have feelings in that moment.

But he kissed me softly, and then pulled out of me. I used my robe to clean up after both of us, and then I quickly showered without getting my hair wet, knowing he would change, and we only had a few minutes before we had to be down for cocktails.

I felt sore in all the best ways, but my heart felt just as much.

We would need to talk, something we were good at avoiding. I put my hair in a quick updo that would hide any crinkles from his hands, redid my makeup to hide the blushing, and was grateful that my dress went down to the floor to hide the bruising around my thighs. The bruising that I had begged for because I loved when he held me hard.

August never hurt me in that way. Only in the ways that we didn’t speak of. But he wasn’t hurting me now. We hadn’t made any promises. We hadn’t told ourselves what we might want in the future.

And so why would I be hurt?

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