I’m not normally this spontaneous, happy to let my man control things in the bedroom, but I’m feeling tipsy and more than a little frisky, and I don’t want to wait until we get home.Lifting my chin, I fix him with what I hope is a sultry look. “Yes, here. Got a problem with that, Anderson?”
Zayn chuckles. “I love the fuck out of you, Em. You have no idea how badly I need this.”
My brow puckers, but before I can question him on the unspoken part of that statement, he swoops in, claiming my lips in a breath-stealing kiss that has me melting in his lap. He thrusts up as I gyrate on top of him, and I’m so wet I’m probably leaving a mess on his pants. A strangled cry escapes my mouth when he moves my panties to one side and slides one long finger inside me.
“Shush, baby. Let’s not give the driver an audio performance.”
“I can’t help it,” I pant, riding the two fingers he’s now working inside me. “That feels too good.”
“You need to be a good girl, Em. You must be quiet, or we wait until we get home.” His challenging stare dares me to disobey. “I won’t have any other man listening to the sexy little noises you make or hear how you sound when you’re coming on my cock.”
“So possessive,” I murmur, biting on the inside of my cheek to stifle a moan when he adds a third finger to my pussy.
“Possessive and proud; now promise, Em, or you’re getting nothing else.”
“I promise,” I say, hoping I haven’t just lied.
“That’s my girl.”
I clamp a hand over my mouth to smother my gasp when he lifts me up and sets me down on the seat on my back. Zayn shoves my dress to my waist and drags my panties down my legs. Then he spreads me wide andfeasts.
I stuff a hand into my mouth to trap my whimpers as my husband devours me with unbridled passion. Stars shoot across my retinas as his tongue plunges inside me while his fingerpresses down on my clit. He works diligently, taking me over the edge in record time. Zayn covers my mouth with his hand to mute my passionate cries as I come apart underneath him in wave after wave of heavenly bliss.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” Tugging his zipper down, he frees his cock from his pants. “And I need inmy pussyright fucking now.”
“Yes, yes, please,” I pant, bending my knees and letting them fall to either side to accommodate my husband as he settles between my thighs.
He cups my bare pussy. “Mine.” His eyes flare with lust.
“Yours. Now fuck what belongs to you.”
“Gladly, wife.” Flashing me a wicked grin, he drives into me in one quick thrust.
Chapter Twelve
Zayn
Islip out of the bed like a ninja, careful not to wake my sleeping beauty. I worked Em over good after we got home, and though a herd of elephants stampeding in the bedroom most likely wouldn’t wake her, I’m not taking any chances. It’s rare she allows herself a day off and I want her to sleep in late.
I hover over the bed, just drinking her in. Her fiery-red hair fans over the pillow in thick lustrous waves like the brightest flames. With one hand tucked under her face and her knees slightly curled into her body, she looks so young, so content, so beautiful, and she steals the air from my lungs every damn time I look at her.
Leaning down, I press a feather-soft kiss to her brow, closing my eyes briefly as I inhale the scent that is uniquely my wife. I’m so lucky she forgave me for all the crap I pulled when we were kids. So lucky to have her in my life.
Tiptoeing out of the room, I stifle a yawn as I walk along the hallway. When I enter the kitchen, the clock on the wall confirms it’s four fifty a.m. Way too early to be up. We fucked for hours, and my body is exhausted, but my brain just won’t switch off. It’sbeen a familiar pattern these past few months, and I know stress and guilt are the reasons I can’t sleep.
I put the kettle on to make herbal tea, locked in my insidious thoughts while I fix my drink.
Grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch on my way through the living room, I settle on the window seat to wait for the sunrise. My thoughts are troubled as I nurse the mug in my hands, resting it on the blanket covering my elevated knees.
“What’s wrong?” Emery asks in a sleep-drenched tone, and I almost fall off the seat.
Blood rushes to my ears, and butterflies race around my chest. “Holy fuck, Em. You scared the hell out of me.”
My wife pads toward me wearing my shirt from last night. It’s too big, and it falls off one shoulder, revealing an expanse of pale creamy skin I’m more than partial to. Her hair is tousled from my hands, her lips swollen from my kisses, and pride mixes with yearning and love as I watch her come toward me.
“Please tell me what’s going on, Zayn,” she says, climbing up onto the seat with me. She kneels before me, reaching out to run her fingers lightly through the stubble on my chin and cheeks. “You’ve been preoccupied for weeks, longer maybe. Don’t shut me out. Let me help. Even if it’s work stuff I don’t understand, I can still listen.” Leaning in, she kisses me softly. “I love you so much. It hurts when you hurt and you won’t let me help.”
“You’re going to think less of me.”
