Page 13 of Cord

I reach for the body wash and loofah next, running it all over her. I pay special attention to her tits, loving the way her breath catches as I tease and pluck at her nipples. “Stay still. I have to get you clean.”

“Hurry up,” she urges as she shifts her weight from foot to foot. Is she getting slick between her thighs again? I hope so. Hope she’s half as desperate for me as I am for her.

I go lower, soaping up her back, hips, and legs. I’m careful here. Gentler. She’s got a lot of scars, some of them are surgical and some aren’t. I don’t know if they give her chronic pain, and I hope not. I don’t ever want her to feel a moment of pain. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you,” her hands are on my chest, brushing along my scars. In this, we’re matched. Both warriors who have seen the darkest nights and come through on the other side to build a beautiful life together.

“Now, it’s my turn,” she insists and takes the loofah from me. She pushes me to sit on the shower bench. I settle on the cold marble, and she reaches for the shower head, using it to shampoo me.

She washes my hair then my body, dragging it out and teasing me the same way I did. My cock grows harder with each passing moment, desperate to be inside her. The steam and the endorphins and the feel of our bodies are blending together, cocooning us in this moment.

She reaches for a towel and drops it at my feet. Then she’s on her knees for me. A fucking queen who owes me nothing is about to give me everything.

“Wait.” It takes the remaining blood in my body to get my mouth to work. Based on the pulse between my legs, there’s only one other place it could be.

She scowls but there’s no annoyance behind it, only amusement. “No, you got to taste me earlier. Now, shut up and let me take care of you.”

“You’re the boss,” I mutter, remembering her words to me the night we got married.

“And don’t you forget it.” She gives me a saucy wink before reaching for my cock. Her slender fingers work up and down my shaft until she’s memorized my shape and feel. Then she ducks her head and gives me the softest kiss. Surprise mixes with pleasure as my cock begins to weep earnestly for her.

I focus on my breathing, trying not to embarrass myself first thing.

“Tell me if this feels good.” She runs her tongue along my dick, teasing me with her heat and touch.

I can’t help the quiet groan that escapes. I need to be touching her too, so I reach for her head. My fingers tangle in her wet hair as I resist the urge to roll my hips forward. I’m not a small guy, and I’m doing my best to accept her pace.

She keeps licking me and I can’t stop groaning. It’s too damn good, and the pleasure is already building at the base of my spine.

When she finally takes me into her mouth, slipping just the tip between her moist, pink lips, the sensation steals the breath from my lungs. I’ve never felt anything as good as this and I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as Mira on her knees for me.

She takes me deeper and deeper until I finally give up trying to pretend to be civilized. I start using her mouth, desperate to find my release. When I’m only a second from blowing, I try to nudge her away. But she won’t let me do that. Instead, she whimpers and keeps sucking like she knows exactly what I need.

It’s her noise that pushes me over the edge, that has my seed spilling down her throat where she eagerly swallows every last drop. She licks her lips greedily when she’s done, giving me a triumphant smile.

“Fuck, you took me so good,” I murmur and pick her up, changing places with her easily. She just made me feel like the most powerful man in the world, and I want to return the favor.

Reaching for the shower head, it’s my turn now. I spend the next thirty minutes giving her orgasms until she’s so spent that I wrap her in one of the plush towels. I carry her into the bedroom and set her down gently before grabbing her suitcase.

She frowns when I place it beside her. “What are you doing?”

“Taking my wife to dinner. Get dressed.”

“The restaurant on the grounds, The Pink Swan? I tried for months to get a reservation! How did you do that?” Her hair is still messy from where I had my hands in it, her lips are swollen, and she has that glazed look in her eyes that only a woman who’s been completely sated wears.

“It’s a secret.” I smirk at her rather than tell her that Fred and Sally are the owners. Funny how fate works things out for us. When I told Fred how Mira and I met and that I only had a few days to convince her to fall in love with me, he was more than willing to help.

“That place has a dress code! You didn’t even bring a suit that fits,” she protests. I got the idea pretty early on that she’s used to having to be the one that thinks everything through and plans all the details. I don’t have a problem with my woman doing that, but she shouldn’t have to. Her husband should be willing to step up and help with the mental load. Besides, I like surprising her and giving her reasons to smile.

The bell to the villa rings, and I can’t help my grin. “That would be the delivery of my suit. All you have to do is get dressed.”

She stands from the bed, pawing through her suitcase. The towel dips, giving me a tantalizing view of the swell of her breasts. “You can’t just spring this on a girl. I need time. I need to do my hair and my makeup and find just the right shade of lipstick⁠—”

I grab her hips and pull her close, planting a big kiss on her. She tastes like my whole damn world. “It doesn’t matter what you wear or if your hair is done. You’re gorgeous, inside and out. Don’t you forget that.”

Her cheeks heat, and she swats at my chest. “Don’t say stuff like that if you want to make it to dinner on time.”

“Then don’t stand there looking so sexy,” I tease before the bell rings again. I peel myself away from my wife and hurry to answer it. Tonight, I’m going to show her all the ways her husband loves taking care of her.