Page 61 of The Marriage

She was his.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled into his chest, her fingers tangling into his shirt and jacket. “I’m sorry I pushed you away, Roman. I don’t see anything when I’m scared. I’m just scared.”

He didn’t want to hear it.

Slipping his hands in around her chin, he forced her to look up at him again, saying only, “You don’t ever have to apologize to me for anything. Ever.”

She was who she was.

He’d loved her more for it.

Because she loved him crazy, too.

When he kissed her, it was soft and slow. He took his time while their tongues met and grazed, and her hands explored. She tasted just the same. Her sweetness soaked from her to him with every touch.

When they pulled away, she rested her head on his chest, and he rocked her slowly back and forth.

“I’m not okay without you, Karine,” he whispered hoarsely into her hair. “I don’t like who I am without you.”

“You’re mine—you promised.”

Her soft proclamation had him nodding. “For as long as you want me.”

It was when the door clicked shut that Roman realized the woman had left them alone. He didn’t really consider that it was probably locked again, or even the cameras he knew were overhead, peering into the darkness.

Karine wrapped herself around him, her legs trapping his waist as he lifted her up and carried her to the bed. Neither of them spoke, their lips talking for them with fast kisses that turned hungry in a flash.

It didn’t matter how much time they had together—or what the next day was going to look like—they had something else that needed to be done first. She touched him, and it set him on fire.

The teasing drag of her fingernails along the column of his neck had him groaning into her next harsh kiss.

He laid her down on the bed, and she reached for him, so he stretched himself over her, covering her completely with his larger, stronger body. He could feel the smallness of her underneath him. She widened her legs, telling him with her body what he needed to know.

Nothing had changed between them.

Not like this.

She still wanted him the same way she did the first night they were together. Only now, she was his wife. Her pleasure belonged to him.

Roman undid his pants, and she helped him pull them down his legs. The shorts she wore—slipped off easily with a hard tug of his hands.

They were still clothed on top, but naked from the waist down. Their heavy pants of breath matched the other. Everything happened so fast, and in total silence.

When her hand fisted into his shirt, popping a button, he asked, “What do you want, babe?”

“Just love me.”

He would.

He did.

Roman watched the way Karine’s hand skirted under her nightshirt to squeeze her breasts while he pumped his cock until it was achingly hard. Her greedy little whines urged him on when he slid the head of his dick along her slit, finding her wet and hot already. He thrust himself inside her, and she sighed so softly.

It was like wet silk had wrapped around him in an instant, and the punch to the chest took his breath away.

Karine rolled her hips, arching her back so she lifted herself up towards him, meeting his body in desperation. She wanted him deeper—fuck, he’d already seated himself right to the root. He stayed higher above her, his hands splaying out along the curves of her stomach where her shirt had ridden up so he could hold her tight.

Squeezed her in every flex of his hips.