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“I would’ve told you about the baby,” I said, a ball of anxiety taking root. I had known for weeks, but kept it to myself out of respect for Marcie and Denton. Kept it from Clive. “It wasn’t my place to tell you. You have to understand.”
“Later,” he grunted. “I just need you right now, okay?”
His lips found mine, and to my shock, I realized that the last traces of salty tears clung to his mouth and skin. I placed my hands on his cheeks and kissed the dried trails where the tears fell, telling him without words that I was there. That I wouldn’t go anywhere. That he was loved and safe with me, no matter what mistakes he made.
Clive’s hands slid down my sides to grip my hips and caress my ass through the fabric of my dress as he backed me through the sitting area and to the massive bed. My knees hit the edge of the mattress and he laid me down with heartbreaking gentleness before he crawled over me, his big body surrounding mine as he scattered kisses on all my exposed flesh that he could reach as he ran his hands over every curve, his lips following the trail as he drifted toward my breasts.
He wanted me desperately—the hot bar of his cock branding my thigh was proof enough—but I felt his pain and brokenness, too, with every brush of his lips against my skin and the hesitation in his hands when he threaded his fingers into my hair to pull me close and devoured my mouth with hot, hungry kisses.
Bit by bit, we stripped our clothes off, flinging them away until we were nothing but feverish skin and searching hands. I pushed Clive back into the soft comforter and scattered warm, damp kisses down his body, pausing to savor the feel of the crisp hair on his chest, to run my tongue along my favorite tattoos and his flat male nipples, drawing inevitably downward until his hard dick, silk over heated iron, brushed against my lips. I breathed in, pulling his scent into me as deeply as I could before my tongue darted out to taste his weeping tip, to trace the proud and aggressive length of him.
I looked up at him and saw that his hooded eyes were dark with lust. Lust and other emotional, intimate things too—things we had named and things we hadn’t. But I felt sure that we had all the time in the world together to figure it all out.
His hands slid along my naked back, teasing the curve of my ass before delving into the wet softness between my legs. Thick fingers caressed my slick flesh as he shifted me closer, granting him better access while I continued to lick and suck his pulsing cock. He pushed those fingers into my pussy, and I gasped around him, momentarily losing my rhythm while he thrust again, deeper this time.
Another finger, glossed in the copious moisture that he coaxed from my body, worked its way into my back hole. I moaned again—from the feelings he pulled out of my willing body, my desire for him, the way he returned the same unquenchable want—I wasn’t completely sure.
I released his cock, panting hard. “I don’t want to come just yet. I want you inside me.”
He pulled out smoothly, rumbling his approval as I rolled to my back and let my legs fall open to show him everything—my arousal, my most intimate self, my vulnerability—as I looked hesitantly up at Clive.
This was different, I realized—this raw need was new, and I didn’t think we would ever be the same and I was okay with that.
I expected Clive to slide his length inside me right away, but he held back, instead dropping down to delve his tongue along my wet center, sucking gently on my clit to pull me right back to the edge again. My fingers twined in his hair as I groaned and shook against him.
Licking his lips as he rose back to his knees, satisfied with his taste of me, he pulled my thighs over his as his hot tip nudged at my center.
When he spoke again, his voice was a rough rasp—some mixture of desire and pain that needled at my heart and made me even more grateful that I could help him deal with his guilt. His pain. I always wanted to be there for him in his time of need.
I took a deep breath and bucked up against him in wordless encouragement, and he slid in with a smooth, powerful thrust. Clive leaned down, bracketing me with his arms as he sucked fiercely at the side of my neck while he fucked into me with short, sharp strokes, and I moaned from the soul-deep mix of pleasure and pain that tingled through my whole body.
“I love you,” he murmured in my ear. “I love you so much.”
I wound my arms around his neck and pulled him in close, kissing him with all the love I felt in return. This was real, I thought desperately. I had always thought that Clive was like the Earth and I was the moon, orbiting helplessly because I had no other choice. But now I knew that it wasn’t like that—we circled each other and had for years. No leader or follower—just us.
My pussy fluttered and pulsed around his thrusting length as I came hard, and I cried out against the warm, tattooed skin of his chest. He stiffened against me just a second later, shuddering and groaning as he poured into me, until his arms shook and he collapsed to the side. He pulled me along with him to wrap his arms around me and hold me tightly.
For a long few minutes, we stayed completely silent, exchanging soft, languid kisses while our bodies cooled and the sweat dried. When the necessary cleanup couldn’t be ignored any longer, we got up, and he led me into the bathroom, where he turned on the hot water in the enormous bathtub and pulled me in with him, placing me in the spread of his thighs.
“Now,” he finally said as we settled together into the steaming water, which was quickly rising up to our chests. “I’m ready to talk.”
