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“Do you still love me, Ellie?”
“W- what?”
“I have been a shit husband. I don’t deserve you now and I won’t ever, but I’m going to try. So damn hard. Every day. Please, do you somehow, despite the glaring red flags and monstrous behavior, my past and my true identity, my true goals, the fact that I made you drink so much stupid fucking coffee, do you still love me?”
I laugh through my tears and nod.
He whispers, “Say the word, Ellie.”
“Yes.”
He smiles. “And can you forgive me?” He pulls me into him, so his chin rests on my stomach and he’s peering up at me, neck bent. “Can you stay, sweetheart? Will you please stay married to me?”
“Yes,” I sob.
He smirks,“En español.” In Spanish.
“Si, Sí, Oui, Da, Sí, idiota mandón!” Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes you bossy jerk!I reply in all the languages.
He stands and grabs my face. “I am. But you love me anyway.” He kisses my laugh out of my mouth, totally taking me with his tongue. I move my hands to his forearms and feel his skin. I move my hands up his arms, touching as much as I can. He moans and picks me up. My tight mermaid skirt pulls and pops as I try to put my legs around his waist but he lays me down on the bed in just two steps.
He lies next to me and leans over, still kissing me desperately, stealing every breath and whimper. I keep touching everywhere, his pecs, his back, all of him. He moves his mouth to my neck and starts to pull up my skirt, but it’s tight. As he leans back I watch in awe as he rips the fabric in two, creating a slit up the entire front. Then his sits up, resting back on his heels.
He looks into my eyes as he shifts to pull off his boxers. He tosses them away and sits there, naked and hard and totally on display. My husband is…magnificent. Stacked muscle on muscle, scarred, angry and broken and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“You’re staring again, wife.” He teases.
“Clearly, you don’t mind.” I say, breathy and feeling myself turning red.
He laughs as he runs his palm along the inside of my leg, moving forward to lie over me. “True. I like you staring at my naked dick. Very much.” His hand reaches me and he rubs along my panties. He runs his fingers up slowly to the side and rips the lace.
I gasp and he smashes his mouth on mine to catch it, groaning. His tongue starts to take my mouth again, in and out, and his fingers match the rhythm, rubbing along my entrance. But he doesn’t dip a finger in. I lift my hips, thrusting into his hand, but he denies me. Then he pulls back and spreads my legs as he moves himself into position.
He nudges his massive cock in slightly, leaning down to put his forehead on mine. This is so different, I’m crying again. That he’s looking right at me, into me. More than that, he’s letting me see him, look into his soul. He sighs as he slides into me slowly, all the way, watching me, eye to eye. When he fills me, my mouth opens and my breath stalls. His eyes darken and his lips part too.
“Fuck! I should’ve done this, made love to you, just like this, everyday. Every damn day.” He pulls back out, and moves in slowly again. “Tell me you forgive me.”
“I do,” I put one hand to his cheek. “I do forgive you.”
He pulls out again, moving back onto his arms. His voice cracks. “Tell me you’ll stay.”
“I will, Mark. I’ll stay.” He crashes in hard, all the way home. I scream. He slides out again and I grip onto his arms for dear life.
His eyes look concerned when he whispers his next demand. “Tell me you love me?”
“I love you.” He smiles as he splits me in half with the strength of his thrust. I moan.
“Otra vez.” Again.
“Te amo.” I love you.He smiles and crashes into me over and over, asking me to tell him again and again. I pull him down onto me and kiss him, then move my mouth to his ear.“Te amo, Marco.”
“Fuck!” A tremor runs over him. “Hold on, baby.” Love making turns into hard, fast sex. And I love it. I love every second. He must too, because he doesn’t last much longer. And this time, when he tells me to come, he looks me in the eye.
“Mark-ohhhh!” I cry out his real name and he comes with me, hard. Looking me in the eye and letting me see his gorgeous face. He fills me up, hot and wet, and I search his features for any signs of regret about not using a condom. I don’t find any. He kisses me as he pulls me up, guiding me to his bathroom. We get my dress off and get in the shower. Together.
He washes me, and then, amazingly, lets me wash him. I lather him everywhere, taking my time to feel his skin in the hot water. I marvel at the tattoo that I never even suspected was under his clothes. I love that I am one of two people who’ve seen it. Mark is half-hard again by the time I move to his front. I start to reach for him.
“Ah, ah, wife. We need to eat.”
