She made a guttural sound in the back of her throat, a frustrated and lust-filled sound. “I don’t have you. I have nothing. I’m your wife, but I can’t have you.”
“Just a little longer,” I whispered, pressing hard kisses against her lips. “Just a little longer, Rose. Then you’ll have everything and more.”
“No. Now. Please.”
“No.”
“Jack.”
“No.”
Groaning, I kissed her, hard, one last time for now, and gently put her back down on her feet. My hand was still protecting the back of her head, so I dropped my forehead against hers and just breathed her air in, trying to calm myself down. Looming over her, invading her space, there was nowhere else I’d have rather been in that moment.
“I want you,” she said, her voice so small I could feel something breaking inside me. “I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.”
“That’s a lot of want. Mrs. Hawthorne.” I cupped her cheeks with my palms and closed my eyes. “I’ve been craving you for so long I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.”
She was the first to speak after both our breaths had somewhat returned to normal again.
“What are you doing on New Year’s? We should do this again.”
Despite the painful situation I was in since my cock hadn’t given up that easily, I laughed and took a step back.
“I’m spending it with my beautiful Rose,” I said, and then I finally walked away.
After spending ten minutes out on the terrace in the freezing cold, I’d just lain down on the bed when my phone pinged.
Rose: Are you awake?
Jack: Yes.
Rose: Me too. Thanks for asking.
Jack: Rose.
Rose: Fine. You need to sleep with me.
Jack: Rose.
Rose: You don’t have to Rose me. I don’t mean like that. Ever since the hospital, I’ve wanted to ask you to stay with me. I got used to it back in the hospital, got used to sleeping next to you, but when you didn’t get in bed with me the first night we were back…
Rose: I couldn’t ask. Now I’m asking.
I didn’t feel the need to write anything back.
She didn’t realize she wouldn’t have had to ask me every day. Once would’ve been enough. I didn’t intend to spend my nights in a different bed than she was in.
Getting up from the bed, I opened my door and came face to face with my Rose.
“Hi, fancy seeing you here. My room or yours?” she asked as if this was completely normal.
I sighed and shook my head. “Let’s go to yours then.”
As soon as she was in bed, she turned to watch me.
Lifting the other end of the covers, I got in after her. She settled on her back and stared at the ceiling.
I was in the same position, the only difference being that she had two pillows to keep her head high during the night and I only had one. Raising my right arm, I put it under my head and rested my left hand on my stomach.
“We’re going to sleep,” Rose said.
“Yes,” I agreed. “We’re only going to sleep. Just like we did at the hospital.”
“Yes,” she echoed in a small voice.
Seconds passed in silence.
She scooted an inch closer and turned onto her side, tucking her hands under her face. She had gotten the go-ahead from the doctor to sleep on her side just the week before, and she’d been over the moon about it for two full days.
“Jack?”
Closing my eyes, I sighed. Her bed smelled like her, her pillow smelled like her, the room smelled like her, and she was too close to stay away for too long—not that I wanted to, but more like had to.
“Hmmm.”
“We didn’t sleep this far apart at the hospital.”
“That was a small bed—I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Why would you want to go anywhere else?”
Great question.
She scooted even closer. Then, before I could do anything about it, she rolled over and gave me her back, fitting herself against the length of my body. I rolled over and threw my arm over her stomach, tucking my hand under her waist, keeping her as close as possible.
Around her, there was no concept of self-control.
I hid my face in her neck and breathed her in.
“This is better?”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
A few minutes passed in silence then she was back at me again.
“Jack? Are you asleep?”
I sighed, sure there would be no sleeping in my future. I didn’t mind it at all.
She grabbed my hand and placed my palm on her stomach. Her shirt had ridden up, and my hand connected with her hot, smooth skin. She didn’t take her hand away.
“Rose,” I groaned.
“You can say it as many times as you want, Jack,” she whispered. “I love your voice, so please keep going.”
Smiling, I kissed her neck and pressed my forehead against the back of her head. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”
I had made sure to keep my hips away from hers, but she moved her lower body back until her butt was nestled against my hard cock.
“I can feel it.”
It wasn’t just my cock, though—it was everything. She was wreaking havoc everywhere.
Her hand still on top of mine, she started to push it down, and when my fingers touched the edge of her panties, I pressed my hand harder into her stomach and stopped the descent. When had she taken off her leggings? How had I not noticed it before?
“What are you doing, Rose?”
“Nothing. You showed me yours and I’m showing you mine.”
“What are you talking about?” I whispered, my fingers digging into her soft skin.
In the name of getting closer, she backed up into me, making her meaning clearer.
I was dying to touch her, so when she pushed harder on my hand, I didn’t have a good enough reason to stop her a second time.
Holding my breath, I let her move my hand to wherever she wanted. She was having mercy on me—either that or she wanted to torture me. Instead of pushing my hand under her panties, she lifted her leg just slightly and pushed until my hand was resting right over where I wanted to bury myself deep. Her panties were soaked. She was soaked, for me.
I closed my eyes tighter. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more, not when we were like this.
“Don’t you want me, Jack?” she whispered into the dark room, and it broke the hold I had over myself.
I gripped her ruined panties in a tight hold and just ripped them off of her.
Her little gasp of shock did nothing but spur me on.
“Don’t I want you?” I asked, my voice raw and harsh. Tossing the now completely ruined panties aside, I placed my hand back on her sensitive skin. Resting the heel of my hand on her mound, I let my fingers part her folds and just lazily ran them up and down in her slickness.
“Happy now?” I asked, harsher than I expected.
“Are you scowling at me?”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Never,” she whispered, pushing her top leg back and over mine, opening herself up to me, letting me have what I was craving. “I love it when you scowl at me.”