She lifts my hand to her mouth. Presses her lips to the worst of the scarring.
The warmth of her mouth on my skin sends need radiating through my chest. My breath shudders out of me. I've let her touch these scars before. Let her see them, kiss them, fold them into her understanding of who I am.
But here, afterElysium, after everything, her reverence wrecks me. It settles deeper than ever before, as if some final, stubborn resistance I'd been carrying dissolves under the pressure of her mouth on my broken hand.
We shed the rest of our clothes with the same unhurried attention. Her yoga pants. My jeans. The cotton of her bra, unhooked and discarded. I ease her back onto the sheets, following her down, covering her body with mine.
"My wife."The words are rough, thick with feeling.
"My husband," she says, her voice soft with emotion. Her hands cradle my face, thumbs tracing my cheekbones, her eyes holding mine. "We made it."
"We made it."
I kiss her again, claiming and surrendering at once. Then I begin to move down her body, my mouth tracing the path my hands have already memorized. The hollow of her throat,where her pulse jumps against my lips. The swell of her breasts, fuller now with the early pregnancy, the nipples darker, more sensitive. I take one into my mouth, sucking gently, and the sound she makes goes straight to my cock.
"Nick—"
I keep going. Down the soft plane of her stomach. I pause where it's still flat, pressing my lips to the warm skin just below her navel. The life growing beneath my mouth. Our future.
"I've got you," I murmur against her belly. "Both of you."
Her fingers thread through my hair, holding me there for a moment. Then I move lower.
I settle between her thighs and she opens for me, her legs falling apart as my hands press them wider. She's wet for me. Slick and swollen and so responsive that the first stroke of my tongue pulls a moan from her that makes my cock even harder.
"So beautiful like this," I murmur against her. "Spread open for me. My sexy wife."
I take my time. Slow, deliberate strokes of my tongue over her clit, learning her rhythm all over again. Not because I've forgotten how to please her, but because each time is different. Each time carries the weight of wherever we've been, and right now, after everything, I want to give her something patient and thorough. I want her to feel worshipped without having to say the words.
Her hips rock against my mouth. Her breath comes in sharp little gasps that fracture into moans when I push two fingers inside her, stroking, seeking, finding the spot that makes her back arch off the mattress.
"Oh God. Nick, please—"
"Not yet." I give her one long, slow lick that makes her thighs tremble around my head. "I want to feel you come on my mouth first."
I build her up with patient, relentless attention, my tongue circling her clit while my fingers work inside her, reading every tremor, every hitch in her breathing. She's close. I can feel it in the way her pussy clenches around my fingers, the way her hand fists in my hair. The way her sounds lose their coherence and become pure need.
"Look at me," I tell her, lifting my eyes to find hers. "I want to see your eyes when you come."
She looks down. Green eyes glazed, lips parted, cheeks flushed. The sight of her—this incredible woman who could have any man and chose me anyway—wrecks me in the best possible way.
I suck her pussy gently, then harder, tonguing the tight bud of nerves while my fingers drive deep, thrusting to meet the frantic pistoning of her hips. She draws in a short breath, then she shatters.
Her back bows. My name tears from her throat, jagged and broken, gorgeous. Her thighs clamp around my head and I hold her through it, my mouth gentling but not stopping, drawing out every pulse and aftershock until she's shaking and pushing weakly at my shoulders.
I kiss my way back up her body. Settle over her, bracing my weight on my forearms. Her eyes are dazed, her chest heaving, and I can't help the slow, possessive smile that crosses my face.
"Oh," she breathes. "That was so good."
"I’m not done with you yet." I reach between us, my cock heavy and aching. I notch myself at her entrance. She’s slick and hot around the head of my shaft, impossibly tight. I hold there for a moment, relishing the tease of her body straining for mine. Her hips tilt, trying to take me. "Easy, angel. We've got all morning."
I push inside her. Slowly. Inch by inch, watching her face as she takes me, the way her mouth falls open, the way her eyes flutter shut and then force themselves open again because sheknows I want to see her. The tight heat of her around my cock is like a furnace.
Christ. I shudder, barely resisting the urge to slam home.
"You feel so fucking good," I breathe against her mouth. "Every time. I'll never get enough of this."
I set a deliberate pace. Deep, long thrusts that let me feel every inch of her, that let her feel every inch of me. Her legs wrap around my waist, her heels pressing into the small of my back. I lower my forehead to hers, our breath mingling.
