Page 102 of Desperate Desires

“Don’t do it again, Ono. Don’t ever lie to me or keep secrets.”

“I won’t. I swear it. From now on, it’s you and me. I will always tell you the truth about everything,” he vowed.

A wave of emotion swept over me, something deep and permanent. It reeked of acceptance, and something more.

Something powerful.

“Is it—I mean, am I in danger now?” I asked, needing to know.

His jaw tensed, but his gaze never wavered as he nodded once.

“Are you in danger?”

“Michelle, I swear, I will keep you safe.” He ignored my question.

“I know you will. But Ono, maybe we should get help?”

“I’m taking care of it. I’ll take care of you. Trust me?”

“I do,” I whispered, cupping his cheeks as I owned that truth.

I did trust him.

Because I loved him.

Even if I didn’t dare say it out loud just yet.

I loved my husband, and just admitting it to myself was enough.

I dragged his head down closer to me and sealed my lips to his, letting my love for him flow between us as constant and untamable as the tide, savoring it as it seeped into my soul.

Desire flared like wildfire, hot and uncontrollable, before it smoldered into unstoppable flames.

“Need you, Wife,” he groaned, flexing his hips and pressing his hard cock against my ass.

I turned in his arms, spreading my legs and sitting astride his powerful lap.

“Ono,” I moaned into his mouth, tangling my tongue with his and reveling in the feel of our bodies writhing against each other.

“Too many fucking clothes.”

His chest rumbled and next I heard fabric tearing as my sexy as fuck husband worked to get the necessary pieces out of the way. The ones he couldn’t move, he simply tore.

I didn’t care.

We could always buy new clothes, but the hunger I felt growing between us was something that would not be denied.

Not contained or delayed, either.

It was primal. Urgent. And it demanded satisfaction.

“Tell me you want me, too, Wife,” he grunted, picking me up by my inner thighs and positioning his cock at my entrance.

“I want you to fuck me, Husband. Make me feel good.”

“Yeah, you do,” he said, smirking at me. “Such a hungry little pussy. So wet. So fucking hot. Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

“Yes,” I moaned.

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