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“I want all of you, Dane,” she demands. “No holding back.” She wraps her legs around me.

“Careful what you wish for, wife.” She lifts her hips, meeting my thrusts as I start to pump harder into her. My balls are already drawing up tight, wanting to explode deep inside of her. She’s perfect, and she’s all mine. No one will ever take her from me again.

“I know what I want. I want my husband. All of you. I know you demand the same from me.” Her pussy clenches around me.

“I better have fucking all of you,” I grit out, still holding on to my own orgasm. Her only response is a moan. I drop back onto my knees. I pull her up with my hands gripping her hips and begin fucking her deeper and harder, needing to claim every inch of her.

She takes it all, giving me all of her, and I take it all like the greedy bastard that I am. I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. My need for her is obsessive. I’m sure some might even call me crazy, but I don’t give a fuck. I know what it feels like to lose the one thing you love most in this world. The thing that brings you back to life. I wasn't living before her. I was going through the motions.

“Touch yourself. Play with your clit,” I demand, barely hanging on by a thread. She does as I tell her, her delicate fingers going to her clit to play with her pussy. The sight is too much. The last of the control I had shatters.

Seeing her laid out before me, taking my cock into her small body as her tits bounce with each thrust is incredible. Her small belly bump shows my claim on her. My ring on her finger is the only thing she has on.

She starts to come, her cunt locking down around my cock. It’s so tight it’s almost painful. I roar out, my release spilling into her. I keep thrusting until every drop of me is inside of her before I collapse on top of her, careful not to crush her.

She runs her fingers up and down my back sweetly as we catch our breath.

“Are you better now?” she asks, having seen my anger when she walked into the room. She knew what I needed, and she gave it to me. Her.

“Yes,” I tell her. I will always be okay as long as I have her.

15

KENNEDY

“Fuck, I swear you’re getting hotter.” I roll my eyes at Dane but love how sexy he always makes me feel.

I’m completely naked and straddling him. His half hard cock is still inside of me from our last bout of sex. Last night we went back to the shelter and had dinner with Faith, then crashed there again. When Fawn showed up with Ace, we dipped out to come back to the hotel to shower and change. We ended up in bed, not surprisingly. I don’t think we’ll ever get enough of one another. Plus, we are making up for the time we lost.

“I think you mean I’m getting fatter.” Dane’s hand comes down on the side of my thigh in a smack. I gasp at the sensation shooting straight to my clit.

“Watch it.” His tone is filled with warning. His face shows that he really is bothered that I said that.

“I love you.” I lean down, laying my head in the crook of his neck. It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t remember everything from before. Marrying Dane is the best decision I’ve ever made.

“I love you too.” He wraps his arms around me, holding me to him. My fingers play with the hairs on his chest.

“We can’t live in this hotel forever,” I say. I’ve caught myself calling this place home a few times now. “Though the room service is nice.” Dane chuckles, making my whole body shake.

“You could hire a cook.”

“Hire a cook?! Gosh. I snagged myself a super rich husband.”

“You’re rich too. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.”

“As sweet as it is for you to say that, it’s yours. I want you, not the money.”

“And that’s why I married you, but I don’t recall a prenup.” My fingers stay, realizing that we hadn’t signed one. It wasn't a thought in my mind. “Not that divorce will ever be an option.” I kiss his neck. “It’s better this way. If something were to ever happen to me, it would all fall to you.”

“Wait, what?” I sit back up. “But…”

“I trust you. You’ll always do the right thing.” He sits up, kissing me. He has so much faith in me. One of the things I hate the most about losing my memory is the fact that I don’t recall all of the tiny details of how we fell in love. Our late night talks had filled me in on a bunch of the details but it’s still not the same as remembering for myself.

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