And since that evening on the cliff, with a kiss that scared her enough to run once again, I’ve been singularly focused on one thing and one thing only: getting my ex-wife back.
Because the truth is, no one else had ever made me forget. And, as I’d learned that day, she hadn’t forgotten, either. Notwith the way we came alive in each other’s arms. Or the way we could die right then and there without regret.
Which is why I devised this crazy plan—to give her request to stay away the middle finger and win her back, or live the rest of my life trying.
Yes, I’d fucked up before. By not being there, coincidentally on the two times she needed me most. Like the universe had set out to sabotage my fucking life, I wasn’t there when her heart—our hearts—was shattering to pieces. Because I was stuck on set with no way of getting back to her in time.
She’d forgiven me the first time, but the second had been her breaking point.
The damage was done, and maybe the repair has been a long time coming. But there’s no denying it’s coming.
Because I will repair us.
I will fix the heart I broke, even if I have to pick it up and glue it back together, piece by piece.
I look into Nisha’s eyes before dropping my gaze to her lips. They’re parted and swollen with my kisses, and I realize she’s been rendered frozen, holding her breath ever since I thrust my cock inside her.
“Breathe, baby,” I murmur, pressing my forehead to hers. “I’ve got you.”
She exhales shakily, her body trembling beneath mine. “I forgot how big you are.”
I pull out and pump back into her tight heat, feeling it strangle my cock like she’s planning to choke it to death. Goddamn, she feels good, her wet arousal tightening around me like a vise.
I give her a moment to adjust to my size before pulling out once more and driving back in. “But look how you take every inch of me, welcoming me home like a good fucking girl. Your pussy remembers exactly who owns her, doesn’t she?”
“Y-yes.” Her throaty moan fills the car as she clenches around me.
Thank God I’d had the wherewithal to tell my security detail to scatter around my SUV, far enough away to not see it rocking like I’m sure it is.
Nisha’s nails bite into my back as my cock pumps inside her. The fucker wants to dive so far deep, she’ll feel him in her throat.
“Tell me, baby,” I say, breathing harshly against her. “Did you miss this cock? Did you miss how hard I always fucked you, making your pussy weep for me?”
Nisha mumbles an incoherent response that sounds like a mix of “Yes” and “Mmmf,” her eyes going from squeezing shut to opening wide.
Shifting my weight to one forearm, I use the other hand to pull down her strapless dress, revealing one perky nipple. Inside her, my dick hardens impossibly more as I lave her pebbled nipple with a flat tongue, making her hips lift in response.
Circling it with the tip of my tongue, I flick and suck it before I bite down on it hard, the way she’s always loved.
Nisha moans, her fingers fisting my hair and her neck arching back to shove her chest further into me.
She’s always loved having her nipples played with—not just teased or licked, but tugged and bitten, almost to the point of pain. It’s something I learned early on that relaxed her and heightened her arousal.
She’s never been easy to get off—needing my fingers, my mouth, and my cock to get her there after focused teasing and ministration—but if there’s one thing I found that helped get her there faster, it was playing with her nipples.
I continue to roll her nipple in my mouth as I fuck her raw, pulling out to the tip before diving back to the hilt, pummeling her and making her gasp with each thrust.
I feel undone, like I’m a threadbare fabric coming apart at the seams. Like I’ve been timeworn or maybe I was never stitched right to begin with, and now I’m splitting open, one manic breath at a time.
“You look so fucking beautiful when you take my cock. When every drop of delicious juice from this pussy is for me.” Popping off her nipple, I take a harsh breath. My heart hammers against my chest like it’s digging a way out. “That’s it, beautiful, suck me in deeper.”
“Oh, God, Patton.” She widens her legs, inviting me further. And like a toxin ready to flood her bloodstream, I drive in deeper, harder. “It feels so good.”
Her body slides under me on the seat, our groins colliding in rhythmic slaps, creating obscene sounds that I’ll probably use to get off to later when I’m alone.
But, fuck, I never want to be alone. Not after this.
“No, baby,” I say roughly. “Itdoesn’t feel good.Wefeel good.”
