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I can’t take my eyes off him, and the tears dry up as other things begin pulsing inside me. I shouldn’t let him take my attention away from the pain. I should turn and run away.
Yet I stay and watch as more and more of his body is revealed. When he reaches out to me, I move into his open arms without an ounce of hesitation.
My treacherous body defies my brain and sends all thoughts towards him and the way he makes me feel. Sexy. Wanted. Needed.
As we hug, our bodies are flush against each other. Moving back and forth, kind of like dancing to no music, he moves me backward and into the shower. He lets me go to turn on the waterfall showerhead then pushes a button that starts water coming from other showerheads, soaking us with warm water.
I hate myself for loving this. The water feels like soft rose petals on my skin. I could live in this shower forever.
Frank puts some shampoo into the palm of his hand then rubs his hands together before sinking them into my hair, shampooing it and massaging my scalp.
I let out a sigh and lean my head back so he can rinse my hair. He kisses my shoulders and leaves goosebumps in his path. I find something that says face wash and use it to wash the makeup off my face before I turn to face him.
Slipping his arms around me, he kisses my lips, and they part to let his tongue in to play with mine. His hands move down to grab my ass, and he lifts me up, then eases me down onto his erection.
I wrap my legs around him and hang on tightly with my arms as he moves me backward until my back is against the wall.
Nothing else matters as he kisses me and thrusts into me with his rock-hard cock. My body hungers for his, and I don’t want to deny the magnificence that this man is.
My husband.
His hands are on my body, his mouth is on mine, and the warm water holds us in its liquid embrace. My senses are on overload with the way he’s moving inside me.
My nails sink into his shoulders as my body rocks with an orgasm. His groan tells me he’s holding back, waiting for his own release as I cling to him, holding on to him like I’ve never held on to anything in my life.
Waves of pleasure wash over me again and again, intoxicating me. The next thing I know, we’re in the enormous bed, the cool sheets against my back as he mounts me.
My hands roam over his back, taking in each hill, every valley, all the muscles that shift as he moves his body to please me. I want to memorize his body, know it better than I know my own.
His mouth on my neck thrills me as he nips and sucks, leaving his marks all over me. Suddenly, he rolls over, putting me on top so he can play with my breasts.
I ride him slow and easy as he sucks on one and massages the other. His dark hair, still damp from the shower, feels cool and soft in my hands. I feel lightheaded as I inhale the citrusy scent of the shampoo he used on his hair.
The man is fast. He can do things so quickly that I don’t even know he’s doing them. And I’m finding him more and more interesting all the time.
His hands move to take my waist, and he looks at me as he moves me faster and faster, my body stroking him steadily until it takes him over the edge. he groans as his liquid heat fills me entirely.
I can’t believe what happens as his cock throbs inside me. An orgasm comes on in an instant, and I cry out, “Oh, God!” My body pulses and throbs along with his in a way I had no idea could even happen.
I fall in an exhausted heap on top of him, both of us saturated in sweat. The smell of sex hangs heavy in the air, and our loud, ragged breathing fills my ears.
He rolls over, putting me on my back again before he rolls off me, staying right next to me. His hand stays on my stomach as he falls asleep. His breathing gets slower and slower until it’s long and steady.
I place my hand over his and think about the fact that we haven’t used any protection when we’ve had sex. It makes me wonder if getting me pregnant is another part of his plan he hasn’t let me in on yet.
Or maybe he hasn’t thought about that at all and would be angry if I ended up pregnant.
Thoughts of my family and how little I know about my heritage come to me. My last name is of Italian origin, but other than that, I have no idea what ethnicities run in my blood.
I don’t know if there are any genetic issues in my family. I know nothing at all.
It seems odd that my family never spoke about things that run in families. My grandmother is still alive, and as long as I do what Frank and his family want me to do, she’ll stay that way. I hope.
I might be able to get some family history out of her. Or Frank might be able to. He certainly has a knack for getting people to do things they normally wouldn’t.
Looking at my husband as he sleeps, I know we’re not really married, but I can’t help but feel we’ve begun to bond in the same way a husband and wife would.
The wedding, the reception, the honeymoon sex—those memories will stick with me forever. Fake as the whole thing was in a legal sense, it was all very real to me.
