Page 117 of A Secret and a Lie
He’s scared, and there’s something about his vulnerability that knifes me straight in the chest. Staring up at me with bright blue eyes rimmed with panic, he leans his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that briefly draws my attention to his muscled pecs.
I reach out and cup his cheek, stroking his sharp cheekbone with my thumb. “You’re never going to lose me.”
His jaw tics beneath the heel of my palm. “You don’t know that. You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”
He doesn’t understand.I smile softly, my heart constricting beneath the pressure. When he attempts to look away, my other hand skims over his cheek so I’m framing his face, my eyes glued to his. “You can’t lose love, and you already have mine.You have me.”
Even after everything that happened fourteen years ago, we still found our way back to each other. I’ve never given much thought to the validity of soul mates, but if there’s an argument for its existence, it’s the way the universe forced us back together against all odds.
Doing the one thing I know will cement my declaration, I slip off the counter, the marble floor icy beneath my bare feet before sinking to my knees.
I don’t need to spell out the significance of my being in this position before him. It’s an admission, a declaration of my submission and trust. I’m not kneeling out of lust; I’m kneeling out of devotion.
There’s nowhere I’d rather be. It feels comfortable and right, likemy soul is finally satiated now that I’ve fed it the thing that it’s been craving for almost two decades. I didn’t realize how starved I’d been for this connection until now.
Craning my neck, I hold his attention, my heart pounding like a hammer and my chest tightening as I say, “I love you, Ford.”
In truth, I’ve loved him for a long time, but admitting that was both harder and easier than I ever could’ve imagined. It felt like peeling back layers of carefully placed bandages, only to find that the wound I thought I was covering is almost completely healed.
He’s quiet for a moment, and I wonder if he heard me, but then his cheeks move, his lips spreading like a theater curtain parting.
“Say it again,” he orders, his gorgeous dimples on full display, enlivening my smile.
“I love you,” I repeat, the words falling from my lips effortlessly.
As I stare up at my husband, I need to remember how sexy he looks in full tactical gear and demand he wear this again. The man rocks a suit better than anyone, but inthis, he looks like a killer. It’s, apparently, a look that’s really working for me.
So much so that I can’t imagine a better place for those clothes than the floor. Methodically unlacing his boots, I toss each one aside before removing his socks. Sensuously, I undress him, reaching for his belt, then unbuttoning his pants, shoving them down his powerful thighs. Understanding what’s happening, he reaches behind him and yanks his black T-shirt over his head.
His fingers tangle into my dirty, curled hair as I marvel at his handsome face before wrapping my hand around his hard length. A coquettish smile on my lips, I slant forward, my tongue darting out to lap at the tip, soaking in the way his eyelids droop.
Head falling back, a groan escapes his parted lips, his chest heaving. “Goddamn, Genevieve, you look breathtaking on your knees for me, my ring on your finger, wrapped around my cock.”
I’ve gotten so used to wearing this symbol of love that it’s become part of my hand, but every so often, it’ll catch the light, reminding me of the man who put it there. I smile as I take him into mymouth, swirling my tongue around his head. I begin to bob my head, tracing the veins as I find the pace he likes, cupping his balls gently.
“Fuck this. I can’t wait,” he snaps after another moment, and I don’t even have time to be confused before he’s on me. His mouth slams against mine before his knees hit the ground. Hands cupping my face, he devours me, his tongue sweeping between my gasping lips. He tastes like freedom, desire, and love.
He grips the collar of my dress, and the sound of fabric ripping cuts through the bathroom, mingling with our heavy, audible exhales. Cool air hits my exposed skin as he thrusts a hand into the front of my panties, rubbing me, and I moan.
It’s not hard to capture the attention of my body. My heart, however? That’s an entirely different beast, one that Ford has championed again and again.
Taking my wrists in one hand, he presses me back, pinning my arms over my head with one huge hand, the tatters of my dress the only thing between me and the cold floor. He pinches my clit, and I arch my back as my eyelids flutter.
“Do you want it?” he asks gruffly, and I roll my hips as he pants against my lips once more. “Are you going to beg me to fill you up, my slutty little wife?”
Dear fucking God, I want it.
“Ford,” I whine. My brain empties when he shoves two fingers inside me, tightening his hold on my wrists. I lose myself to the lust coursing through my body. Biting my bottom lip, he shoves my panties aside before thrusting into me.
I cry out, my pussy stretching and conforming to him.Christ, he feels incredible.My fingernails dig into my palms painfully above my head and I groan as the delicious burn spreads from my core until I feel Fordeverywhere: in my mind, in every inch of my body, in the fabric of my DNA.
Words become fucking lost, shifting into gibberish when Ford’s cock strokes that rapturous spot deep inside me that has me seeing paradise with every drive of his hips. The pleasure is all-consuming,every cell in my body sparking to life as he powers into me, stars exploding beneath my skin as he slowly drags himself out until only the tip remains and he plunges back in harder.
“You’re such a flawless fucking doll,” he praises, his voice strained. “I love watching your tight cunt stretching to take me.”
Thereisa stretch too; he’s big, and it burns a little, but only in a way I find incredibly addicting. His other hand, which has been gripping my hip, moves to encircle the front of my throat. My body tingles and buzzes as he lights me up. How is he able to anticipate exactly what I crave?
His ocean blues flash, and he tightens his grip on my throat until my vision begins to cloud, sparkles of black oblivion dancing at the edges.
