Page 42 of Malicious Marriage
“We were supposed to sleep,” Clover murmurs into the crook of my neck.
“Were we?” I’m too distracted to sleep. The sudden flurry of hot sex in the kitchen was unexpected, but even more so was Clover’s invitation for me to stay. Maybe I should have turned her down, but it never crossed my mind. I’ve tasted her now. I’ve felt her pussy around my cock, her breath against my skin, her moans against my lips. There’s no going back. I’m well and truly hooked, and I don’t care when it happened. All I care about is that this is where I want to be right this second.
We tried to keep our hands off each other while cleaning up the coffee and slipping out of the expensive dress and suit. I was supposed to keep myself entertained while Clover showered and she was supposed to set up a guest room while I showered. But when I came out of the shower with the steam of heat clinging to my skin, Clover was still in her towel sitting on the bed with the softest look on her face and all other plans just melted away.
“Isn’t that why we came to bed?” Her words write softly across my skin. Clover laughs softly. “It’s late. Long night. Stress has been relieved.”
“Is that all I am?” Despite Clover’s desire to hide herself with the towel, and then the duvet when she dove under the covers, my desire to see all of her is growing by the second. I entertain myself by lazily caressing her bare shoulder with my fingertips, but I want more. If she will let me, of course.
“Stress relief?” Her head slides away from my shoulder to the pillow, so I turn my head to meet her gaze. “Mmm… Maybe.” She grins.”
“Cheeky.” Her smile is as irresistible as her lips, so I lean in for another kiss, but I pause just before our lips meet, giving her the choice to reciprocate or push me away. Her mouth presses against my own and my heart soars in delight. Pushing lightly into the kiss, I shift up onto one elbow until I’m over the top of her and she’s rolled onto her back. The kiss breaks and her gorgeous green eyes are suddenly void of color as the darkness of desire floods them.
“Does this hurt?” Clover’s attention drops to my shoulder where the burn scars splash from my shoulder to my chest and down the majority of my arm.
“No.” I watch her face as she examines me while following the tickle of her touch in my mind’s eye. “I’m more sensitive, but there’s no pain.”
“Wow,” she breathes out, her eyes wide as she gently strokes all over my shoulder and down my bicep. “There’s so much.”
“My back is the worst.”
She looks at me with a silent question in her eyes, so I sit up fully and face away from her so she can see the large splash of scarring across my back. It stretches from my burned shoulder down across my back to the opposite side of my ribs. “How did it turn out like this?”
Not the sexiest topic, but the intimate way she touches me with care makes it easier to talk about. “My brother ran in to save my sister and neither of them came back out. So I went in to getthem. I was halfway up the stairs when the steps gave out and I fell down to the basement. It sort of saved my life, but some of the flaming wood fell on me. It burned. I burned. I woke up in hospital two weeks later.”
“Oh, my God.” Clover’s touch trembles and then vanishes.
I’m about to turn and face her when the familiar softness of her lips presses warmly against the scar tissue, and my gut flutters like I’ve swallowed a handful of butterflies. Her touch is so tender and I cannot recall the last time someone treated me so gently.
“I’m so sorry that happened.”
“It was a long time ago,” I murmur. “Old and forgotten.” To an extent.
“Not by you,” Clover replies. Her lips are replaced by her touch, so I turn around to face her, but as I do, she quickly draws the duvet over herself as if fearing what I might see.
“Are you shy?” I ask gently, seeking out what boundaries lie here.
“Uh…” Clover’s face suddenly flushes red and she shakes her head. “No, I just… if you wanna… y’know, let me just—” She cuts herself off and reaches toward the bedside table as if to turn the light off. I’m faster and I catch her wrist gently before she can.
“If I’m to do anything with you, darling, I want to see you.”
“But…” Clover hesitates and cuts herself off as her cheeks redden further.
What is she suddenly shy of? Is it my scars? Something for her own comfort? “But what? Were my actions in the kitchen not enough to tell you just how much I desire you?” I’m teasing, but it was dim in the kitchen with only one light on. It added to the sexiness of the sex, I won’t deny it, but Clover is so beautiful and I want to see all of her.
“You were amazing.” Her smile flickers. “I just… with the light off is better.”
“If you’re looking for sensory play, then a blindfold is much more effective.”
“No, but it’s just… isn’t it better with the lights off?”
My brow raises. “Why would it be better?”
Clover’s eyes narrow suddenly. “Have you seen yourself?”
I glance down at my bare chest, uncertain. “Huh?”
“Look at you. You’re built like a freaking Greek statue.”
