Page 90 of The Butcher's Wife
His big, powerful arms coil around me as a hot, almostpainful orgasm tears through me. I suck, moan, and bite his neck while I ride his fingers. The strength in his arms makes me feel like nothing could ever hurt me. Once the aftershocks pass through me, I slump against his chest, heaving like I’ve just sprinted a mile.
Dom chuckles. “Feeling good?”
Against my languid body, his soft, muscular chest under mine is a familiar comfort. I’m tired and sated, but when a low buzz of thoughts of Serafina, of Frederico, returns to swarm into my mind, I sit up straight and unbutton his last two shirt buttons.
“Take your clothes off now.” I need to be so exhausted that I’ll pass out after. I can’t think right now. I don’t want to.
I step off of him less gracefully than I would’ve liked, with sex-drunk balance, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he tears the stitching on his shirt to yank it off.
He stands suddenly, looming over me with a single movement as his hands reach for his belt. His pants and boxers drop, and his heavy cock springs forward, foreskin drawn back over the almost purple head. My mouth goes dry. For tonight, his body is a promise of pleasure and safety I can sink into.
His dizzying height disappears as he kneels before me. He presses his mouth against my panties, and I would’ve stumbled if it weren’t for his hands supporting my weight.
“Can I take these off?” he murmurs, his voice muffled. He rubs his face against my pussy with a dangerous sincerity of affection, and right now, it feels so good that I don’t care. I need what he’s offering.
“Please.”
He hooks into my panties and throws them to the floor with the same eager violence he used to tear off his shirt. But he’s tender when he slides his fingers under my feet,lifting them high enough so he can kiss the ball of each foot with so much reverence that I have to grit my teeth together and look up to the ceiling so I don’t cry. I’m on the cusp of demanding he stop. Then the pendulum swings back to ferality as he scoops up my panties off the ground, crushes them to his nose and mouth, and inhales deeply like it’s a hit of his favorite drug.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groans.
Heat plunges through me. I barely manage to get my bra off before he’s standing and lifting me into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist and we’re kissing—fast and brutal. I can’t remember ever being so hungry for a man.
“Lie on the bed,” I whisper.
He groans and strokes himself once before sliding onto the bed, the mattress dipping under all that glorious weight. His muscled thighs and wide belly invite me to sit.
I crawl over him, swinging one leg over his thighs. His hands move to my hips, his thumbs tracing over the bones there. We’re mismatched, but I’m glad for it now, glad for the promise of forgetting anything that isn’t the burning stretch when I take him in me.
I lower myself until his thick cock’s pressed between my thighs, and the point of our connection is molten hot. The tendons in Dom’s neck are harsh lines before they disappear into his beard. I avoid his watchful, piercing gaze as I reach down for his length and press it against my entrance. Taking several deep breaths, I drop onto him, taking him into me faster than I have before.
Dom’s fingers press against the underside of my thighs, slowing my descent.
“Hands above your head,” I say.
“You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Should I go get in a fight with someone, instead?”
For a moment, we’re locked in a silent standoff in the dim light of the bedroom.
Of all the people in my life, Dom should understand why I need this right now—why I don’t want to think about all the hard decisions in my life and how little they meant to the people I loved. How little I meant.
Just as a fight sounds like a good alternative, right when I decide Dom won’t listen—like always, he surprises me. He stretches his arms above his head, joining them as he grabs his right wrist with his left hand, and watches me with a taunting look behind his half-lidded eyes. That familiar thought crosses my mind—how can a person be so strong and vulnerable at the same time?
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“Anything you want.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and lean down to lie across his broad chest so he can’t see my face as I work him into me. He’s good—he’s been so good to me, but it hurts to believe that right now.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I grind against him, crowding out my thoughts with the heat building inside me until I hit the right point, and the first wave of my orgasm crashes through me. His belly flexes under me, he jerks his hips up, and his cock twitches as he comes, filling me up with his hot seed.
I forget, for a moment, that tonight is supposed to be about the physical act—his desire is thrilling, it’s alwayssublime. I can’t help but get carried away with the heightened pleasure of our orgasms until we’re both curling forward into the other, gripping and squeezing like we’re fighting a rising tide to stay together.
As the pleasure recedes, I come back into myself, curling against his chest and staring at the far wall. Dom drops hisarms to stroke a lazy path up my spine, the movement relaxing enough that my eyelids grow heavy.
His fingers trail down my arm and brush against my wedding ring. “You know I’m here for you.”
