Her tiny fingers close over the hem of my shirt, and she pulls me close.
I go willingly. I’m her slave in this, and truly, in all things.
“Kiss me,” she whispers, and I do.
I kiss her tenderly, careful of where she’s bruised.
“Really kiss me. Remind me who I am,” she says, and I moan.
“Don’t wanna hurt you, Wife.”
“You won’t. You can’t. But please, I want to feel whole again, Atlas. I want to feel like yours.”
My heart fucking cracks.
“You are mine,” I whisper. “You’ve always been mine.”
Her pine colored eyes glitter up at me, and in them I see so much emotion. I wonder if it’s mirroring my own. Heat fills me. Desire, a wild thing, too.
And I move.
I strip down beside her, careful of her injuries.
But when our skin touches, when her lips find mine, we’re no longer broken.
We’re fire.
Cece moans when I kiss her neck, her hands threading into my hair, pulling me closer. I kiss every bruise.
Every inch of her that hurts.
And I make her feel everything else too—pleasure, safety, devotion.
I hold her as she trembles, and I groan out loud as she claws at my shoulders.
It’s not rough. Not like the first time. But it’s not soft either.
This is reverent.
Her nipples are hard, and I bend down to tend to them, licking each one around her piercings and giving them not so soft tugs from my hungry mouth.
“You taste so sweet, so damn good.”
I groan as I lick my way down her body, flexing my hips against the mattress just to relieve some of the pressure building inside my aching cock.
“Christ, Cece, you’re soaked for me,” I murmur when I spread her legs wide.
Her pussy is glistening for me, the evidence of her arousal dripping down to the crack of her ass.
I snake out my tongue and lick her from her puckered hole to her clit.
The Viper tattoo is still there, still fierce and sexy as fuck, and I make eye contact with the little beastie above my wife’s sweet cunt as I eat her out, reveling in the feeling of her fingers threading my hair and my name on her lips.
Her naturally tan skin means her folds are a shade or two darker than her thick thighs, so soft and delicious, so damn pretty I lose myself in her.
I worship her.
“Atlas!” she cries out, and I shove two fingers inside her, curling them upwards to where I find that special, rough patch of skin.
