“But . . .” she says, taking my hand and guiding it to her jean-covered pussy. “Your mouth here. Gentle. Licking. Kissing. Sucking.” She bites her lip, and I’m a goner.
I groan and push myself up, taking her jumper and lifting it over her head, tossing it aside, and then working the fly of her jeans and dragging them down her legs. She kicks her legs, helping me, sitting up and taking the bottom of my T-shirt, pulling it up over my head. I grit my teeth when I stretch the skin on my chest, breathing in deeply, exhaling slowly. My jeans are next, and I roll to my back, lifting my arse, wriggling free of them.
Desperate.
Both of us.
I remove my boxers, pull her knickers down, and ease myself down onto my front, burying my face between her thighs, ravenous. Her yelp of surprised pleasure echoes around the room, as does my groan of satisfaction, my senses getting a hit of her scent, the taste of her, the warmth. “You.” Lick. “Taste.” Suck. “So.” Bite. “Good.”
“Fucking hell,” she breathes, her legs stiffening, her hands clawing my hair.
“Good?”
“God.”
“Yes?”
“God!” she screams, vibrating already, her legs kicking out, forcing me to shift and pin her down. “No!” She bucks, and I immediately pull away, dazed, her essence coating my mouth.
“What?” Shit. “Did I hurt you?” Fuck, is she thinking about the other day? When I was crazed? It won’t ever happen again, I know it, but how do I convince Rose?
“No, baby,” she whispers, pushing into my shoulders, sending me to my back. “I want to see you.” She looks down at the bandages on my chest. Swallows. Then takes my hand and guides it to my cock, straddling my thighs, sliding her hand down her swollen tummy to her pussy.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathe, circling my girth, holding my breath. Nothing could ever beat being inside her. Nothing. But this? I blow out my cheeks, reaching for her bra and pulling the lace cups down, my eyes passing between her hard nipples. Darker nipples. Rounder, bigger nipples. I drop my dick and sit up, snaking an arm around her back and taking one in my mouth, sucking gently, kissing, then tracing the edge with my tongue as I look up at her. She’s getting more beautiful by the day. Tastier. Sassier. I rest my hand over hers as she strokes herself, helping her, continuing my tongues assault on her boob, moving to the other, some attention there, back again.
“Enough.” She withdraws and pushes me back down to the bed, and I arch an eyebrow as she reaches for my hand once again and puts it where she wants it.
“You want to watch?” I ask, wrapping my palm around myself.
She bites her lip and brings her fingers to her mouth, licking them. Fuck. Me. Then walks them slowly down between her boobs, across her stomach, and into her wetness, her breath hitching. I swallow, take one arm above my head, and start thrusting my hand, my eyes unmoving from the juncture of her thighs, watching her fingers scissor her clit. “Slow down,” I order, and she does, whimpering, as I speed up my pace, the throb of my cock sinking into my palm. “Shit, Rose,” I breathe, my lungs straining, my thrusts naturally speeding up. I glance down, seeing the crown of my dick glistening. Blood pounding. Veins throbbing. Heart racing. My eyes drag up her body. I find her lips parted. Eyes glistening. Love emblazoned across her face.
My thrusts speed up. Her back arches, pushing her chest out. Her stomach. Fuck, her stomach. “Rose.” I choke over her name, grabbing the pillow under my head, yanking at it.
“Oh,” she whispers. “Yes,” she breathes. “Shit,” she hisses, her body convulsing. Blood. Heat. Stars in my vision.
I clench my eyes closed briefly, my body stiff, as the pleasure creeps through me, slowly at first, painfully slowly, but then faster. Faster. Faster. “Fuck!” I bellow, breathing short, fast breaths, releasing the pillow and slamming my fist into the mattress.
“Oh God!” Her body jacks, her chin dropping to her chest, her hand shaking, struggling to remain between her legs, her hips starting to thrust into her touch.
Urgency.
Desperation.
Need.
“I’m going,” I hiss. Fuck, am I going.
“Yes!” Her head tosses back violently, wafting her hair through the air, and she yells to the ceiling, going rigid, stilling, whimpering quietly, before her body loosens and she slumps forward, slapping her palm into my stomach to hold herself up.
I just about manage to hold off my release until she opens her eyes. “Look,” I order, and she turns her drowsy gaze down at the moment I explode, cum shooting upwards and hitting her stomach, her chest, her boobs, in powerful surges. And with the explosion of my dick comes the deflation of my chest. I exhale, my body rolling, every muscle stiff, aching, painful.
But it’s the best kind of agony out there.
Spent.
I peel my grip away, letting my semi-erect cock fall to my stomach, and let my arms rest above my head, closing my eyes as she lowers onto my front, but she doesn’t settle on my wounds. So I force her down. And we lie, quiet, peaceful, exhausted, for over an hour, snoozing, holding each other, reconnecting in another way.
“I will never leave you,” she whispers, forcing my arms to come down and hold her. She looks up at me, taking a finger to my scar and tracing the length. “Only death will separate us.” Her touch moves to the bullet wound by my collarbone.
“Will it?” I ask.
She blinks slowly and settles back on my chest gently, stroking one of my cuts. “No.”
Because we cannot exist without each other. It’s a hard fact. A frightening fact. Which means I have no choice but to be careful with my life.
“I should get Doc,” I say, making to move.
“Why?” She lifts, giving me a look somewhere between tiredness and humor. “Are you going to have him check me over every time you fuck me?”
“I didn’t fuck you,” I say, pressing a hard kiss on her lips. It’s the only hard thing I can do to her right now. “Your fingers fucked you.” Holding her around her back, I pull her stomach onto my mouth and kiss her gently there, smiling at her small bump. It’s hope when it feels like it’s limited. Happiness when it feels like misery prevails. “Rest,” I order, getting up and going to the bathroom, flipping the shower on. “I’ve worn you out.”
“You talk yourself up, Danny Black.” I only just hear her pathetic insult over the water. “I did all the work.”
I smile into the mirror at myself and pluck my toothbrush from the holder. I can’t say I like the man staring back at me today. But he’s a much better version than he used to be. Still a killer. But a killer with more purpose. More drive. It’s a blessing and a curse, because my drive and purpose are what my enemies will now use against me. I load my brush with paste as I stare at my bandaged chest, and I am reminded that my wife can cause me more damage than my enemies ever can.
I scrub my teeth before I get into the shower and do my best not to get my bandages wet. Impossible. I keep my back to the spray and make fast work of washing before getting out and patting myself dry. I peel away the soggy dressing and grab some fresh bandages, refusing to look at the damage as I wrap myself back up, holding my breath, the biting pain back. I walk into the bedroom, and the post orgasm sparkle in Rose’s eyes vanishes the moment she sees my fresh bandages. Which is exactly why I refuse to let her redress my wounds. “Where are you going?” she asks from the bed, where she’s curled up on her side, the sheets caught up between her legs.