Page 44 of His Weekend Wife

As the cooler air brushed her silken skin, her nipples took on a lighter, pinker color and tightened. Ah, they were as sensitive as ever. His mouth salivated as he dipped his head and licked the perky tip. She jerked and moaned. He did the same with the other nipple, not wanting to leave any stone unturned. Dipping his finger in the center of the cake, he scooped a small amount of the chocolate then wiped it over one distended, swollen tip, then the other.

Her back arched as if welcoming him to eat the treat from her body platter. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes shutting and a whimper came from her. Cupping the firm flesh with his fingers, he lowered his mouth and covered the nipple with his mouth, suckling away every last crumb. The mixture of sugar and the natural sweet scent of her body was an intoxicating pleasure to his senses. He was drunk on her.

Damn, he’d missed his wife. Missed holding her. Loving her. Knowing she was part of him. Hell, she’d never left him—not internally. After having useless sex with a number of women, he realized why he’d always felt shitty when he slithered from their bed. They weren’t Ash. He had to question how he’d let her go again.

He continued his suckling on the other breast, licking away the chocolate as her fingers dug into his hair, massaging and mimicking the same action with her nails. He moaned and pulled back, rolling the wet tip between his fingers, tugging the flesh, teasing it. While she was consumed with the sensation, he covered the other nipple with his mouth. Her breathing became heavier and his hunger grew.

Lifting his head, he admired her beauty. He brushed the backs of his knuckles along her collarbones, down the cleft between her breasts and to her flat stomach. He swirled the tip of his finger around her belly button and the muscles of her belly tightened and trembled. He flattened his palm over her pubic bone, but didn’t make a move to explore any further.

The area between her brows scrunched. “Declan,” she whimpered.

“What, sweetheart? Tell me?” He could smell her musk as it mingled with the chocolate. The tangy scent of arousal teased his nostrils, making him harder and hungrier. She seeped into his bloodstream, like a raging storm. He wanted to take things slow and yet he longed to drive his body into hers. “Bella?” he demanded.

“Please, put out this fire inside of me.”

“This must go.” He clutched the thin baby doll in his fist and in one, swift pull, the seams burst and ripped as he dragged the material away. He sucked in a ragged breath at seeing her naked splendor spread out before him—like a buffet of intoxicating pleasure. Pushing her knees apart, he admired her bare pussy, the glistening pink lips that trembled in awakening. He pressed the heel of his hand against her clit and she spread her legs wider. With a growl, he slid his hand lower, pleased that she was hot and moist, ready for him.

A remaining sliver of control remained. How could he keep his feelings at bay? After thirty days, he would grant her the divorce. But was that what he wanted?

Her hips came up off the bed, bucking against his hand, reminding him that he was defenseless against her and the powerful need driving through him. She rocked his world.

“I’ve missed this, baby. Missed us.” He blinked. Had he truly just confessed those words? He half expected her to laugh, but instead she brought her hand up and cupped his cheek, her palm warm.

Their gazes connected. “I have also.”

His heart twisted. He hadn’t expected that revelation but he felt like less of a fool somehow. He leaned in closer, sliding his hand under her bottom and lifting her hips while he slid his fingers into the crevice of her wet pussy, parting the delicate lips, inhaling the spellbinding scent. Her hand dropped to her side, clutching the sheet between her fingers. He tapped the pad of his finger against her clit, lightly, and her writhing told him that he was heading the right direction. The fleshy head swelled under his touch and her breathing became labored.

Leaning back, withdrawing his touch, her eyes came open. “Declan?” There was a pleading tone to her voice.

“You like me touching your pussy?” He forced the words through his raw throat.

“Yes! Please! Don’t stop!” she pleaded.

He smiled and brought his hand to the seam again, this time using more pressure, circling the tip of his finger around her clit and sliding his thumb inside of her giving her double action. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips parted. “Ash?” She looked at him, her gaze dazzling with desire. “I need to know. It’s killing me. Who has touched you?” He was at a cross between needing the answer and knowing he’d suffer greatly having the truth.

“No man has touched me.”

He paused, coming to grips with her words. “You haven’t…?”

She shook her head against the pillow as she looked up at him with a tender gaze. He’d been her first, her last…not possible. Not with a beautiful, smart woman like Ash. He wanted to question her, but his throat tightened. He continued to play with her secret spot, while penetrating her tight body. “This pussy is made for a man’s touch—my touch.”

“Yes,” she whimpered.

Declan watched her inner thighs quiver, her pussy lips glisten with need as he drew her closer to orgasm. Her knees came together as if she wanted to cling to safe ground a second longer, but he pushed her legs wide and she moaned. Her coiled muscles tightened around his finger.

He watched her, pleasure spreading over her features. It all amazed him, held him in a trance-like state of mind.

“I-I shouldn’t feel this good. Why can’t I fight it?” her words were like a truck speeding through the silence of the room.

He stopped the rhythmic pattern of his hand. “Because you’re with me.” he groaned.

“Because I can’t just give a little with you,” she admitted. “I can’t hold back.”

“Do you wish for me to stop?” Stopping now would be like getting punched in the gut, but if she wanted him too, he would without hesitation. He only wanted her if she was one-hundred percent ready and willing. Although her body screamed for release, he didn’t know if her heart spoke the same words.

“No. Don’t leave me here stranded.”

Holding her gaze, her bottom lip trembled and he knew then he wanted to keep her safe, protect her, take care of her. But would she let him? She was one of the most independent women he knew.

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