“Yes!” She squeals. I cover her mouth with mine, shoving my tongue in to collide with hers and I take over. I thrust up into my wife, fingers pulling at her hair, hips punching hard and fucking deep. “Fill my pussy, Maksim. I want to feel you leak out of me for days. Give it to me. Please, please, please.” She pleads between fevered kisses that feel like everything that ever was between us. “Come with me.”
The “ungh, Maksim!” that leaves her lips just as her cunt spasms around me has me grasping her in my hold, completely aware of how fucking perfect she fits in my arms. That string of her soultugs at mine, and I follow her down a cliff with her name on my tongue as my cock unleashes everything I have into her pretty pussy.
I pant, heart beating ferociously out of my chest.
Unable to think.
Unable to see, hear, smell, or feel anything but her—my wife. My Duchess. My future. I kiss her, turn us over, and let my hands find purchase on her thighs. It’s quiet, so quiet I think she’s fallen asleep on me, but then I feel her inhale deeply. I move her hair away from her face. “Sabrina…”
“Don’t speak yet,” she shushes me.
I close one arm around her waist and use my free hand to tilt her chin so she’ll look at me. There are still tears in her eyes, but they don’t spill. She waits for me to say something,anything, unblinking. Unmoving. Just… patient.
When I don’t, she does. “I know this doesn’t fix everything. I want you to lean on me when you’re falling, Maksim, in more ways than one, but what if I’m not enough? That’s what I'm afraid of. That one day you’ll wake up and think it of me…” Her tears spill relentlessly. She does her best to swallow it all down so she can speak to me like she’s gulping for air. “And I'll be weak and useless to you again.”
“Sabrina,” I flip us over so I'm on top of her once more. Her heels land on the backs of my thighs as I take both of her hands and put them over her head. “I had come up here to tell you I was going to make an appointment with Damon. I know I need to work through this. Not just physically, but mentally. You deserve the man you married, malenkiy lunnyy luch—”little moonbeam“—and I’ll be damned if I don’t keep my promises to the only person that matters to me.”
Big green eyes stare up at me like I told her I can pull stars from the sky. “Maksi…”
“Yes?”
“I had my birth control removed.”
The way my cock stirs so fast at those six words after having just come like a goddamn firehose should be studied in a lab. I grin. “Is that right?”
“Mmhmm… Maksi?”
“Yes, wife?”
“Touch me everywhere,please.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Parker.
Hand under my head while I stare at the ceiling fan, the door to my bedroom opens softly then clicks again once it's shut. My little night prowler still has the sleuthing abilities of a bull in a China shop. With a shake of my head, I keep my mouth closed, and simply watch Sabrina slowly come closer through the moonlight or streetlight spilling into my room through the partially opened blinds.
Hair up in one of her messy buns, she drops her robe and I withhold the groan she inspires. She's wearing tiny little silk pink shorts with little moons and stars all over them, and a matching, flimsy fucking little spaghetti strap top stretched tight over her full tits that has my cock hardening already and all I've done is look at her. Not in the mood to talk for at least another night, I shut my eyes and pretend to be asleep. She pulls up my blanket and slips into bed with me. Christ she smells amazing.
I’m a weak man when it comes to her and sometimes, I hate myself for it.
Her warm, manicured fingers crawl up my torso until she gets to the middle of my chest and there, she traces little hearts over my sternum, where my scar has healed. I can feel her staring at me and I know if I open my eyes I'll look into eyes so green they'd make peridots jealous. So I don't. I can't. Stupid thing is it ain't ‘cause I'm mad at her. I'm not. I've already forgiven her. I just don't think I could look into her gorgeous face and not take her mouth with mine then fuck her to high heaven. She’s got too much shit going on in her head for me to pile more on her.
I place my hand over hers and she snuggles into me. No part of me rejects her. It’s impossible. The hand under my head goes over her and settles on the dip of her waist, briefly squeezing.
“You tattled on me.”
“Yup. And I’ll do it again if it means he quits being a fuckin’ asshole.” I reply without a second thought. I tap on her hip twice, remove my arm from around her and turn over, grabbing my pillow and puffing it upto how I like it, tucking it between my shoulder and my head. “Alright I'm going to bed.”
“Parker--”
“No, Sabrina.” Because words or sex can’t fix this. As much as I love her, as much as I am dying to reclaim her body and her soul, this is between me and Maks. She needs to fix shit upstairs and until she does, until they do… I’ll… fuck, be on the sidelines, I guess. Back to being a fucking sconce on the goddamn wall. Christ, how did we get here?
“Parker, I’m—"
“Go to sleep, Bri.”
She doesn’t move.
