AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Spread those legs. I am starving for my favorite meal.”
His large hands grab onto my thighs so firm that I know he will in fact leave a bruise. I feel his tongue lightly touch my slit. I throw my head back and arch my back.
“No moving or I stop. Do you understand?” he asks heatedly.
I nod and keep my eyes on the reflection watching him lower his head back between my thighs. He presses his tongue onto my clit and flicks with long strokes. I bite my lip to hold in my moan as I do not need the whole office hearing me coming on my husband’s face. He spreads my legs further apart and thrusts two of his fingers into me. The mix of his tongue and his fingers curving to my g-spot, I can feel my orgasm building. I am so close to the edge.
“Yes, right there. Please.” I beg him.
“I said no talking.” He pulls his face from my pussy, and he slaps it.
I let out a throaty moan because it felt fucking amazing.
He lowers his face back between my legs, he flicks his tongue faster and faster as he pumps his fingers in and out of me. I am biting on my lip so hard that I taste the metallic taste of blood. My fingers are scraping at the glass. Jameson adds his pinky to my tight asshole and that is enough to send me over the edge. I come hard. I come so hard that I can feel myself dripping on his face and my legs. But he does not stop. No. He keeps going. There is no way I have another one left in me.
“I want another one. Soak my face, Angel.” He grunts. “I am the only man who can make you feel this way.” He uses his strong tattooed hands to spread me even more to have more access. “Make you come this way. Me. Only. Me. Come. Now.” He growls.
And I do. I come harder than I did a moment ago. I do as he says. I soaked his face as my wetness drips down from his face onto my legs. He licks all of it up. Every drop. Pulling my skirt back down, he gets up and spins me to face him.
Grabbing me by the nape of my neck, he slams his lips onto mine. The kiss is not sweet. No. The kiss is hot and passionate. I can taste my saltiness on his lips, and I am instantly wanting him to fuck me on my desk.
He pulls back, and I already miss his lips on mine. “You are mine, Aria. My wife. Never doubt yourself. I will always show you how much you are worth.”
Staring into his ocean blue eyes, I can see the truth in what he says. He is not one to sugar coat anything or manipulate me into feeling or thinking anything. No. No, he wants me to see what he sees in me. For once, I am starting to see that, and I like it. I am liking who I am with Jameson. Who Aria is as a person.
Smiling, I reach up and kiss him softly.
How is this man who I have known barely longer than a few weeks, married to for months, making me think maybe he is right that this is going work. Am I crushing on my husband? I think I am, and I am not even mad about it.
Eighteen
jameson
Forsomanyyears,I have been telling myself that I am not worthy of love or being loved by someone or even giving love. Yes, I have people in my life who I care about. My past is a reflection that I am not a person who deserves to be loved. I have done some things that I am not proud of and wish I could erase them all together. However, life is a cruel bitch and does not care and will throw a curveball so fast that I will not see it coming until it hits me in the gut and leaves me with the air knocked out of me as I lie on the floor begging to be dead.
When Aria mentioned about her parents being killed by a drunk driver after we had sex in the tattoo shop, my whole body broke out in a cold sweat. It hits too close to home, literally. I know the pain that she feels and the emotions behind it. This is something I should be sharing with my wife, but it was as if my body and mind would not let me. Inside, I was battling with myself to share my story to help her understand me for see she is not the only one who is still affected when their life was turned upside down. Then, she went on to share her story about her horrible miscarriage, and how her ex-husband blamed her. I was so angry, I just lied there as she poured her heart out to me. I kept thinking that if she knew the other part of my past, she would be running to Vegas to get that divorce. I do not want to lose her.
I get lost in the bottomless glasses of alcohol, hoping it would quiet down the voices in my head about what a piece of shit I am. How am I still alive? I should be the one who died, not them, not my whole family. I have nothing.
Getting up from the bar, I reach for my keys, and I hear the bartender call out to me.
“Yo, you cannot drive in your state man. Let me call you a cab.”
Groaning, I wave him off and walk outside to my truck. Once I get into my truck, the lights are all blurry, and I have to blink a few times. Shit, I have been in worse conditions than I am at this moment. I slap myself across the face to wake up.
Driving back to my shitty apartment, the road and the lines start to become one, and I am trying to stay on my side of the road. I keep my hands at ten and two on my steering wheel and grip it so tight that my knuckles are white. I notice there are a set of lights coming my way, and I go to swerve my truck…I swerve into the car…hitting it right on the driver’s side door. Tires screech. Metal crunches. My head bashes hard on the steering wheel, and then everything goes black. The voices are quiet. Everything is quiet.
Next thing I remember is waking up on a metal bench in a cold room. Groaning, I come too, and my head is throbbing like someone is drilling into my skull. Fuck, why are the lights so bright? Why is the beeping so loud? Sitting up and opening my eyes to see that my hands are handcuffed to bed. What the fuck? Where the hell am I? I pull my arm back to bang the metal handcuffs on the bed rail.
The curtain is pulled back angerly, and the person comes into my sight. A police officer. “Hey! Can you tell me why I am in hospital? And what the fuck am I doing handcuffed?” I ask the officer angrily.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Well, you are in jail for driving highly intoxicated and for causing a car accident, where the victim is now in surgery. If she makes it, you are looking at seven years in jail, asshole. But if she does not make it, you are looking at life in prison. Maybe you should have thought before getting behind the wheel.” He grunts and walks off. “You’re only here as a precaution. Your blood alcohol was way over the legal limit.” He moves the curtain to leave. “It should have been you, asshole.” He mumbles under his breath.
No…No…this cannot be happening. What I just did tonight is what happened to my family last year. How did I let this happen? I can feel the bile rising from my stomach, I turn in the bed and release the emptiness inside me all over the floor. I lay my head back, close my eyes and wish this was a dream and not reality. I deserve to get life in prison for what I did. I deserve to die. The voices in my head are back, and they are louder than they ever have been. They are right.
The next few weeks happen in a blink of an eye. The woman who I hit did make it, but unfortunately, she was severely injured and now is bound to a wheelchair for the rest of her life. She was only sixteen and was heading home from a late shift at the local diner. I was sentenced to seven years in jail for driving highly intoxicated and almost taking that girl’s life. I made a vow to myself that I will never touch a drop of alcohol again, and I will do something with my life. I do not want to be the cause of hurting someone like that again. I need to prove to my parents and little brother that I am not worthless.
I do not deserve Aria. But I am too selfish to let her go. I need to share my past with her even though it is going to hurt. I just hope that this is not what causes her to run or change her mind about our marriage. After our night in my new tattoo shop, she opened up to me to let me see inside. I want to open up to her and share my issues, but the voices remind me that she is not going to care and will run for the hills screaming.
