Page 45 of Keeping Her Under
“I love you,” I rasp as I reach forward and grab her breasts with both hands. “I love you.” I fondle her nipples. I leak precum inside her. “I love you.”
Pulling out, I push back in. Slowly. Carefully. Until I’m balls deep. I lower my hand to her pussy as I recall the things I read about in her favorite dark romances.
My breath catching, I search for her clit. I swipe my thumb across it lightly. Once. Twice. Then I rub it lovingly. Sweat builds on my back as I fight off my urge to fuck her until I come. She will come first.
And if I fail again tonight, then I will try again tomorrow.
But she will come first.
All of her books emphasized that, and she likes them for a reason. I might not be educated in all the things she enjoys, but I will learn.
I will become the man she needs.
“I will protect you from anyone who wants to hurt you,” I rasp as I roll her nipple between the fingers of my left hand. “I will provide for you so you’ll never have to think about food or bills again.” I spit on her pussy and rub my saliva around her clit. “I will buy you whatever you want, and if it doesn’t exist, I’ll make it.” I tense my cock as I push down lightly on her lower belly.
One of her books said that would stimulate her G-spot, and when I googled what a G-spot was, I discovered it’s the female equivalent of the prostate. Created from the same tissue, it can be located anywhere from the urethra to the bladder, and it can swell up to the size of a kidney bean, making most women instantly aroused.
I stroke myself inside her as I keep pressure on her belly, hoping I’m doing it right. It would help if I could see her, but turning on the light would be too risky. So I try to concentrate on the feel of her pussy. It should get wet pretty soon – unless she’s one of 10% who don’t have a G-spot.
That thought thrills me. The idea of having to work for her pleasure is fucking heady. Of being the only one who knows how to turn her on because she doesn’t come with a “cheat.”
My balls draw tight, and I shudder deep inside her. Clenching my teeth, I freeze until I beat my orgasm back.
Only then do I start moving again.
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life taking care of you. You will never want for anything. I will be there for you like your mom isn’t. I’ll worship you like your boyfriend never did.”
I stroke her pussy and fondle her breast. Then I lean down to kiss her. My balls draw tight again, and I struggle to control myself. Rasping against her lips, I shake on top of her.
The heart monitor picks up on my movement. With a curse, I sit back up. Ryan and whoever else is out there will be monitoring her vitals from the nurses station. If I disrupt her wires too much, someone will come in to check on her. At the moment, they’ll brush any short irregularity off as her moving in her sleep. They’ve started to wean her off the anesthetics. Over the next few days, she’ll move more and more and even open her eyes from time to time. Once they stop her medication completely, it could still take her days to wake up.
So I have a bit of wiggle room, but I don’t want to risk it.
Taking a deep breath, I pull out of her. My cock throbs. My orgasm is so damn close.
But I will please her first.
Shuffling down the bed, I bury my head between her thighs and fuck her with my tongue. My fingers push inside of her, curling like her books suggest. I lick and suck and hum.
But she never comes.
So neither do I.
Twenty-Six
An hour or so later, I rest my head on Summer’s thigh, panting hard. My balls are so fucking blue that I fear I’ll come if I lick her one more time. Just the smell of her pussy is luring me closer and closer to an eruption.
Straining against my desire to slip my cock inside her, I force myself out of her bed so I can clean her up. I stroke her pussy as I wipe away my saliva. I pinch her nipples after I rearrange her gown. My balls tighten like a noose. Ready to hang me the moment I step outside with an angry erection.
I turn away from her, breathing heavily. I need to get it to go down before I can move through the hospital. People won’t give a random man a second glance, but they’ll remember the creep who got a hard-on when surrounded by so much death and misery.
My burner phone buzzes with Ryan’s text. Shit. I have to leave now.
I tuck my cock up in my waistband, then bow my shoulders forward, letting the hem of my shirt hang in front of my pants. It’s not the most gracious, but people won’t pay much attention to a hobbling old man in a hospital.
I step out of her room and hurry through the empty ICU, then slow my pace in the hall. I enter the stairway and concentrate on my breathing. And when that doesn’t work, I think about the fucker in my basement.
About the texts he sent my future wife.
