Page 145 of Savior

Her hands moved up to slip the second button on her dress. “Lauren’s finishing up the deviled eggs, Kate and Nate are presumably still in the bathroom, Dakota was supervising the arm decorating, Mike just passed me headed back to the house, and Zane’s on smoker duty. Did I miss anyone?”

With each name, she’d undone another button before slipping the straps from her shoulders. The dress puddled near her feet, and a growl left my throat. She hadn’t been wearing anything underneath.

“Goddamn, darlin’. You should wear this more often.”

“Yeah?” She did a little twirl before crooking a finger at me. “Come here.”

There was a pile of horse blankets tucked into the corner of the barn. It was just secluded enough that if we stayed quiet, no one would know where we’d gone. Celia lowered herself onto her back and spread her knees, inviting me in.

I dropped a hand to my belt, and her gaze moved lower. “Someone’s fighting to get out of his cage.”

“I can’t imagine why.” I laughed and peeled the denim off before slowly lowering myself to my knees. My body had been through the wringer, and all the physical therapy in the world couldn’t get me back to what it was before, but I was still alive. I was in the arms of my girl.

I lapped at her with my tongue, her body an altar that I never tired of worshiping at. People talked every day of losing the spark after so many years together. They went outside of their marriages to search for it, desperate to recreate the feelings they once had.

It made me think that maybe with all of my wrong turns, I’d done something right by being so fucking gone for the mother of my kids that laying my hands on another woman never crossed my mind.

Celia eventually grew impatient with my mouth and arched her hips. “Please.”

“Who’s in charge here?” I asked in a low voice.

She looked up at me with drowsy eyes. “Me.”

“What do you want? All you have to do is say it.”

“I want…” she glanced around before whispering, “I want your cock.”

“I’m sorry, wife. Did you say you wanted somethin’? My hearing just ain’t what it used to be.”

Celia groaned as two bright spots of color appeared on her cheeks. I loved that she still couldn’t say the word without blushing. “I want your cock, husband.”

I nodded and sank into her with a ragged exhale. “So fuckin’ tight.”

“I feel it,” she panted beneath me, forcing her cunt down around me before pulling back. She did it again, finding a rhythm that had her gripping my cock like a vice within seconds.

When she came down, I pulled out and rolled her legs to the side. Celia’s lips parted on a gasp when I drove back into her with a rough thrust.

Her tits bounced, and I ignored the twinge in my shoulder as I moved into a pushup position and sucked one into my mouth. Fingers tangled in my long hair, tethering my mouth to her chest. She went sailing over the edge again with a cross between a moan and a scream.

I clapped a hand over her mouth and thrust deeper, the electric tingling in my spine, making it impossible to hold back. I dragged my cock in and out of her tight walls, sucking against the tender skin on her tits until I was sure there’d be bruises.

Sensing I was close, she reached back and locked her right hand around my thigh, pulling me deeper. I came inside her with a groan, continuing to thrust until my body shuddered violently before collapsing on top of her.

“Jesus, princess,” I murmured, still feeling the shock waves of pleasure. “Hope you weren’t expectin’ me to be useful after that.”

“Mama?” Dakota called out from nearby. “Torch and Lou are here!”

I dropped my forehead to Celia’s, fighting to keep her pinned beneath me, even as she began squirming to move away.

“No, stay here,” I begged like a petulant child.

“Greedy man. Come on, we have guests.”

Reluctantly, I rolled away and got dressed, remembering the ring in the pocket of my jeans. Someday, I’d give it to her and admit that Cobra hadn’t died in the early morning hours of Dakota’s wedding day.

Maybe I’d tell her how he became something of a friend in my darkest hours. How, in what I was sure were my final days, I learned about the kind of man I didn’t want to be. I saw what built-up anger could do to a person, the type of monster it could turn a person into.

I wouldn’t mourn his loss, but I would remember the lessons he’d taught me at my lowest. Vengeance and protection were two completely separate things. A person could only choose one.

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