Page 53 of Save Me

He cocks his head to the side, a question in his eyes.

I answer it when I sink to my knees at his feet, reaching for him. Before we invite more chaos into our lives, I want an hour to be just us—Brantley and Isla. Husband and wife.

Judging by the way desire flares in his eyes, eclipsing everything else, he wants it too. He takes a step toward me, his tongue skirting along his bottom lip. "Yeah?" he rumbles, brushing his hand down my cheek. "You think getting on your knees for me is important?"

"Very," I whisper, inching his zipper down. "Highly important." I delve my hand inside, wrapping my fist around his already hard cock. He groans in response, his eyes at half-mast. "So freaking important, Brantley."

"Jesus," he groans, spearing a hand into my hair as I pull his dick from his pants, leaning forward to lick the broad head.

I moan as his taste bursts on my tongue, and then pull him into my mouth, plunging down on him all at once.

"Fuck!" he shouts, bucking his hips against my face.

That tiny move forces him a little deeper, and I choke, lava coursing through my veins.

"Christ. Ah, Christ," he pants. "I'm a bad husband already. Forgot how fucking perfect this mouth is, little bird."

I pull back, looking up at him. "Guess I'll just have to remind you."

He growls like a wild beast when I plunge down on him again, using everything I've learned to slowly drive him crazy. I lick and suck and bob on his cock, teasing him until he's on the brink, his hips pulsing restlessly. And then I start all over again, determined to make him as wild as he makes me. To love him until he can't think or breathe.

"Christ, Isla. You gotta stop. I'm going to come," he pants, his eyes on fire as he pants for breath, his hand tangled in my hair. His hips moving restlessly as he pumps in and out of my mouth, unable to stop himself even as he tries to stop me.

I wrap one hand around his shaft and the other around his legs, pumping so my fist meets my mouth every time I bob down on him.

"Ah, fuck. You want me to come down your perfect throat?"

I hum around him.

He growls a curse, his body going taut. He throws his head back, moaning my name as his cock twitches in my grip, his seed splashing against the back of throat. I swallow quickly, trying to drink it all down as he spills into my mouth again and again.

I don't even have a chance to swallow the last drop before he yanks me up into his arms, his mouth crashing down on mine in a fierce kiss. If he tastes himself on my lips, he doesn't complain. He's too busy storming toward the bed with me in his arms, pulling my dress off at the same time.

My back lands against the cool sheets as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties, ripping them down my legs.

"Brantley!" I shout, my back bowing from the bed as he buries himself between them face first. I grip his hair, sobbing in ecstasy as he attacks my clit with his lips and tongue, snarling.

"That's it, wife," he growls. "Let me hear you moan for your husband."

My husband. God, he's my husband now.

He stiffens his tongue, thrusting it inside me to fuck me with it.

I sob in ecstasy…and then sob again when I feel him spreading my cheeks. Feel his tongue slipping lower.

It dances over my back entrance in a teasing flick.

I shatter with a sharp cry, shocked at how good that feels. At how much I like it. I'm still coming when he rears up over me, thrusting into me all the way to the hilt.

"Fuck," he groans, his head kicked back. "I feel your pussy rippling all up and down my cock, little bird. You're squeezing the hell out of me."

"It's your f-fault," I choke out, wrapping my legs around his waist…rocking against him. So damn greedy for more. I don't think I'll ever get enough of him. He can't fuck me enough or kiss me enough or eat me enough. Every time he does, I just want more. I need more.

"More than willing to take the blame for making this greedy little pussy happy, baby," he grunts, dipping his head to drag my nipple through his teeth. "I think I'll keep doing it for the rest of our lives."

"Yes," I whisper, clutching him to me as my core clenches at the thought. If happily-ever-after exists it's this: Him fucking me for the rest of our lives. It's us tangled up in each other, loving each other just like this until we're too damn old and gray to do it anymore. It's him and me and every damn second of pleasure we can wring out of one another. And it's him, knowing that's what he deserves.

He seems to know it right now. He fucks me like it's his mission in life, pounding into me so hard the headboard rattles and my voice breaks from screaming his name.

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