Page 48 of The Reluctant Wife

"You okay?" he murmurs. His lips and chin glistening with what must be my cum.

He catches me staring at his mouth and his lips quirk. "You’re a squirter, baby."

"What?" I blink.

"Didn’t know that, did you?"

I shake my head dumbly. Then he kisses me, and I taste myself on his lips, and those vibrations in my lower belly start up again. He kisses me deeply and with such enjoyment, it’s like he’s eating his favorite dessert. But there’s also tenderness in it, and an assuredness which tells me he knows exactly how to play my body. It’s so arousing and unexpected. And then, still kissing me, he reaches between us and slides his thick digits inside me. He weaves them in and out, and I shiver. Goosebumps pop on my skin, and it’s not because I’m cold. Quite the opposite. A bead of sweat slides down the valley between my breasts. The heat from his body snaps around me and binds me to him, and it feels like I’m next to a furnace. His kiss deepens and it feels like he’s swallowing me whole.

He slides the fingers of his free hand down between my ass-cheeks to play with my forbidden entrance, I shudder. It’s…filthy, I should hate it, but… The very illicit nature of the act excites me further. I’m so turned on, the sensations chasing themselves inside me and stabbing at my insides with a forcefulness that holds me in thrall. I strain against him as that pressure in my womb grows bigger and wider until it seems to fill every part of me.

When he slips another finger inside my channel and curls his fingers, I orgasm at once. He swallows the groan of pleasure that wells up my throat. He continues to use his thumb to massage my clit as I shudder and shiver and allow my climax to heat my blood. I slump into the ground, my muscles so relaxed, I feel like I’ve turned into jelly. He finally tears his mouth from mine. His green eyes glitter a rich emerald, the sparks in their depth like lightning in a storm.

"You’re so beautiful." His voice is gravelly. The pulse beating at his temple tells me he, too, is close to being undone.

"Fuck me, please," I beg.

His jaw tics. Then he releases me and, rising to his feet, steps out of his briefs. His long, thick, hard cock juts up against his lower belly. The head is purple and swollen, and beads of pre-cum glisten at the tip. The vein that runs up the side throbs, indicating just how turned on he is. And the length and the thickness of his cock… It’s beautiful. A work of art.

I’m glad I’m so aroused because, surely, he’s going to struggle fitting it in. Yet the rigidness of his thighs is a testament to his self-control. He’s made me come twice, while denying himself the same. It only makes me want him even more.

Standing over me with sweat clinging to his shoulders and droplets of water from his swim trickling down his sculpted belly, his arms held at his sides, he resembles a warrior. He is the ultimate pinnacle of manhood. He’s so alpha, it makes my teeth hurt, and my stomach flip-flop, and my pussy turn to mush. The yawning emptiness in my belly increases in severity until it threatens to engulf me. I make a sound deep in my throat, and instantly, he responds.

He goes down on his knees between my thighs, then hesitates. “Are you on the pill?”

When I shake my head, he reaches for the pocket of his jacket on which I’m lying.

He retrieves a condom, and a part of me wonders if he came prepared, knowing this would happen. The other part, the one too far gone with desire, rejoices in the knowledge that there’s nothing stopping him from taking me. The crinkle of a wrapper, and he sheaths himself.

Then he reaches down and positions himself at my entrance. For a second, he stays there, looking deeply into my eyes. And it’s so intimate. Almost more intimate than the actual act of penetration. It turns me on even more. I reach up and trace his beautiful mouth with my thumb. He nips at my digit. I feel the tug all the way deep in my belly. He kisses my thumb, then he grips my hip. He propels his hips and breaches me in one smooth move.

I gasp. He’s big; he feels bigger than I anticipated. And despite the fact that I’m dripping, the pressure on my inner walls feels tremendous.

"Take a deep breath for me," he orders.

I do.

"Another."

I oblige. There’s no question of my disobeying. The muscles at his jaw pop. A vein stands out at his forehead. I realize, then, how much he’s holding back, giving me the chance to adjust to his size. Even now, he’s focused on my pleasure.

And my heart… It stupidly stutters.This is more than fucking. This is so much more than just a one-off encounter. I wish it could be more. I wish… I told him earlier that I'm engaged.I wince.But I wanted this with him. I wanted to know what it would be like to consummate this overwhelming attraction between us. The kind that is a once-in-a-lifetime connection. I didn’t think this through.

Didn’t think there could be anything more between us. But then, I didn’t think he might want something more lasting with me either. How is he going to react when I tell him?

Likely, he’ll be annoyed that I wasn’t upfront with him.But it’s not like we promised anything to each other. And given I’m not yet married and the transactional nature of the engagement, do the rules of monogamy even apply here?

The thoughts whirl around in my head.

Either way, my conscience tells me I owe it to him to be upfront.And I will. Just not yet. I can’t. Not when I want to make the most of these moments with him.

I’m going to hold these images of him looking at me like I’m the most beautiful thing in the world. Of the tenderness in his eyes as he braces himself over me. Of the lust on his features as he thrusts inside me, the tension in his jaw as he struggles to find control, as the emotions on his face mirror the confusion I feel inside. I wonder if he realizes his mask has slipped?

"You okay?" His tone is rough and strained and yet, there’s a tenderness to it that ramps up my confusion even more.What have I done? Why did I lead him on so?

His eyebrows know. Concern flickers in his eyes. "Answer me, Aura. Does it hurt?"

I shake my head, knowing I need to reassure him, or else he’ll pull out, and I don’t want that. "I’m good," I whisper. "Really good."

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