“I’m tired,” she exhales.
“We can have an early night,” I assure her.
“I don’t like getting up early.”
“I’ll try to be quieter tomorrow, so you don’t wake up.”
“Why can’t I just stay up here?” she asks, her brow furrowed, her tone…confused?
“Because I can’t breathe without you,” I say honestly, trying to explain this…need to be close to her that I have.
“Did you really buy that bed down there just for me?” Some of the furrows in her forehead have gone, and even though I still don’t really know what that means, I don’t think it’s because she’s getting angrier.
“Yes. It was delivered yesterday while you were napping. I set it up last night after you said you were too exhausted to be fucked again.”
A soft smile combined with a tiny chuckle gives me hope that I’ve done something right.
“I think I preferred it when you called it intercourse,” she says softly.
“You told me that the words intercourse and penetration were clinical.”
“I know.” She exhales. “But there’s something about hearing you talk about fucking that does something to me.”
“What does it do?” I ask, mentally documenting the softening of her muscles and the hardening of her nipples as her legs move, her thigh muscles clenching then unclenching as she rubs her legs together restlessly.
“It turns me on,” she whispers.
“I still have fourteen minutes of my workout left.”
“You’re leaving?” she rasps, her eyes going wide.
“I believe it’s possible for me to replicate the muscle usage of my remaining exercises by fucking you,” I tell her.
“How?” she asks, soft and breathless again.
“Perhaps I should show you.”
Instead of speaking, she nods, and I take charge, rolling her beneath me and lifting her entire lower body off the bed. Holding her weight with one arm, I guide my cock into her entrance, then start to roll my stomach, carefully grinding into her while I engage my abs, tensing each set of muscles in turn while I fuck her in a slow wave movement.
“Oh god,” she pants.
“I’m not God. Who am I?” I question, needing to hear her say it.
“Knight. You’re Knight.”
“Who. Am. I?” I ask again, punctuating each word with a harder roll, hitting a little deeper each time.
“My…” She pauses, swallowing thickly.
“Who?”
“My husband. You’re my husband,” she says on a prolonged moan.
“Perfect. You’re my perfect doll, and I need you. I can’t be away from you, not even in the same house. You’re my center, the thing my entire world spins around. I can’t function without you. You’re my chaos. My wife. My heart.”
I fuck her while I tell her everything. I’ve admitted all of these facts to her separately, but as I fill her over and over with my dick, I tell her my truth all in one go. I give her all the power, I give her me, over and over and over until she cries out her release, and I fill her with my cum, hoping and praying that I just filled her womb with a baby.
TEN
