My body collapses, every muscle that a moment ago almost snapped, now melts.
I pant. “Oh, my God.”
Ellis’s weight rests on top of me. I pull his face closer and taste myself on his tongue. I find the buttons at his waist and snap his jeans open, pushing them down his hips.
Ellis helps me, never once breaking the kiss.
I exhale when his naked build is flush to mine.
We both moan as his heated, hard cock rubs between my vaginal lips. His wet tip on his upstrokes kisses my clit, stealing my breath.
“Fuck,” he bites, dropping his head.
“What?”
He digs his forehead into my chest, groans, then faces me. “I don’t…I haven’t since…and shit.”
My brows furrow, trying to follow, when it hits me. “Oh.”
“Shit, Wildflower. I’m sorry.”
“Ellis. I figured as much. And, well…I wasn’t worried.”
Now, he’s the one frowning in confusion.
“My hormones have been imbalanced since I was a teen. I’ve gotten the shot religiously since. And…”
“Iris,” he whispers, running those capable and gentle hands over my face. “No, baby. We can wait.”
“I’m clean. I’ve never…” I close my eyes, taking a fortified breath before I face him again. “I’ve never been with someone,” I confess.
Dumbfounded, Ellis searches my face. “Impossible,” he whispers.
“It’s not a big deal. I’ve just been too busy trying to keep the farm from falling apart. And no one…no one’s made me crazy with want before.”
His eyes close. “I’m not worthy of that.”
“Hey,” I firmly say, cupping his face. “Husband. I want you. My skin will combust if I don’t feel you inside me.”
He groans. “You are everything I never saw coming, Iris Michaels.”
“Ditto,” I reply before his soft grin eases the moment.
“The moment my cock slides into your tight, wet walls, you’re it. You’re mine,” he growls.
“Ditto, husband.”
“I fought it, Wildflower. I’ve been yours from the second you showed up in that sunny dress, determined to be my wife.”
I laugh, stimulating our bodies, and we both moan.
“I was pretty determined.” I smile as Ellis slides his shaft down until the pulsing tip notches at my entrance.
I gasp, my body wanting to accept him.
“Slow. Tell me if it hurts. Tell me when it feels good. Tell me everything,” he grunts, fighting his need and carefully easing deeper in increments with such patience.
My nails carve crescents into his golden skin. My legs restlessly hug his body, willing him deeper.
