Page 72 of Shame

She beams at me and nods. “And do you want Daddy to make you feel good?”

Another nod.

“Maybe a bedtime kiss, mmm?”

Her lips part, her eyelids fluttering half shut, and I give her a long, sweet kiss there, on her mouth, but that’s not what I mean.

I crawl down her body, kissing each precious bit of her good night.

“Good night, Grace,” I whisper against her neck. “Good night to your sweet, lovely breasts.” She giggles as I lave her nipples, sucking the puffy points into my mouth. “Good night to your sweet belly, and this adorable little belly button, and the sweetest of good nights to your perfect pink pussy.”

She gasps as I press her thighs apart and settle in, flat on the bed, for a very long, very filthy devouring of my wife’s cunt.

She tastes perfect, musky and hot, and her flesh is already blooming for me as I lick between her folds, then suck her clit.

“Daddy can’t wait to fuck this little pink hole,” I growl. “One day soon, I might even go without a condom. Wouldn’t that be nice, baby? Feel me inside you? Bare? Just you and me, nothing in between us?”

“Would you come inside me?” she asks in her dreamlike, fantasy voice.

“Deep inside you.” I lap at the arousal spilling from her now. She likes that idea, and fucking hell, so do I. “Fill you with seed.”

She cries out and tangles her fingers in my hair, pulling my mouth fully against her clit, and I suck her through her orgasm.

Then I sheath myself and thrust home, fucking her with abandon. She comes again, clutching at me, and I growl in her ear one more time.

“Just like this. This is how I’ll do it. Fill you all the way up with Daddy’s seed.”

“Fuck, Luke, yes…” She gasps and I lose it, my hips jerking out of control as my climax darkens the edges of my vision.

And then she laughs. “Wow. I mean, wow. Right? That was super dirty.”

I nod and roll onto my back, my heart pounding.

31

Grace

Spring turnsto summer far too quickly. I’m not sure if I like it. It’s a reminder of time passing, of healing being slow.

Luke, on the other hand, likes the longer days. He’s unhurried in the morning, and making dinner together stretches longer into the night.

When he approached Sam about hiring a new executive team for the firm, and stepping back into just being founders and investors, Sam was more on board with that idea than Luke thought.

And suddenly, my husband became a house husband of a sort.

So I shouldn’t have been surprised when he brought up the topic of babies, but I was. It had been a long time since we’d discussed it in our twenties, and agreed then that we weren’t interested in being young parents. Or maybe even parents at all.

“Why didn’t we ever have kids?” he asks, clearly not having the same memory of it that I do. We’re sitting on the terrace having brunch.

“Because you were an asshole,” I say lightly. “And things got rough there for a while.”

An understatement.

“Did you want babies? Did I keep that from you?”

“No,” I say honestly. “I wanted to make art.”

“Is that still the case?” There’s something about the way he says it, something searching and loaded, that I put down my espresso cup and give him my full attention.

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