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“I’m not crying over your mean ass.” My words are muffled in his chest.
He scoffs, his arms encasing me. “I mean it.” His words sound gruff. I hold him closer, snuggling as close as I can.
“You were just a kid. It’s not right what happened to you.” I pull away, noticing his front is just as marred. There are several burned-out circles on his chest.
I push him away a little so I can look at him fully.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes shrouded again.
“You had to endure it. I won’t dishonor you by looking way.”
His jaw flexes, and this time he’s the one swallowing his feelings.
I start to kiss the scars peppering his chest.
“You don’t have—”
Pressing my lips against his, I shut him up. Then I return to my task. Getting on my tiptoes, I try to come close to his line of sight. He angles his head to meet my gaze.
“I’m sorry, but I’m glad that motherfucker’s dead.” The wrath in my words has the solemnity falling from his face.
“Don’t be sorry. I already told you what I did.” He smirks.
“Well, good. Eep.” The last part is a gasp when my bare bottom hits the cold marble of the sink. He moves to stand in between my legs.
“Look at you being a bloodthirsty little minx,” he grumbles. I can feel how hard he is because he’s pressing against the juncture of my thighs. The towel is doing nothing to hide his enormous bulge.
For a long moment, we both battle internal wraiths. For the first time in all these years, we are wary of how much we should show the other. It’s almost as if our trust is so broken that my soft place to fall has become a patch of briars.
“Well, minxes can be fierce protectors.” Ready to weather his rejection, I tip my chin up.
Wariness gives way to a deeper, darker emotion. “Fierce, huh?” Reaching out with one finger, he tugs my bottom lip free from between the teeth abusing it.
“Yep.” I nod for emphasis.
“I’m starting to see that,” he muses, obviously troubled by what he knows of me and the treachery he believes me guilty of. Though I understand more why trust is a fragile friend for him, I can’t help the hurt that lances through me.
“Show me how fierce you can be, little wife.” His mouth claims mine. I kiss him back with all the fierceness I feel from seeing what he endured at the hands of his father. Our tongues tangle, suck, savoring every breath mingled. He captures me by my nape, holding me as he angles his mouth over mine. He makes me take him. I do. Taking all he has to give, I demand more. He tastes like fresh mint and me. He pulls back, his eyes smoldering. “So pretty for me.”
We meet in the middle; the kiss is hot and greedy. I tug his lip into my mouth, sucking the pliant bottom, then move to the top, biting the corner a little. In turn he bites me, making my pussy squeeze. Spearing my tongue into his mouth, I make him take my tongue back. He sucks my tongue, holds me deep in his mouth. His kiss is an experience—a whole sex act all on its own. My body responds in kind. The marble counter is wet with my juices. Squeezing my thighs reflexively against the hardness of his hard thigh, I arch into the pressure. He presses, grinding his heavy dick into my pussy.
“I need you, Nik.”
My heart stops. He hasn’t called me that in so long, I don’t know how to take it. There’s a quiet vulnerability in his eyes for a moment. He looks away like he’s trying to gather the strength of ten thousand men.
“I—I need to shower,” I say, squinching up my nose. “I stink.”
He shakes his head. “You smell like me. Like us.” He leans in, his breath ghosting ear as he makes me feel every inch pressed against my pussy. “You smell mine.” His voice is a deep growl. “Don’t make me make you give me my pussy, little wife. I’m not asking.”
Tugging the towel away from him and dropping it on the floor, I meet his gaze.
“Good little wife, always keeping my pussy ready for me,” he praises me, pushing his thick, hard length inside me.
“Mathias,” I hiss, feeling the burn and stretch of his magnificent dick. “So good, so good.” I sound unintelligible to myself.
“Fuck.” He draws the word out on a long moan as he surges into me until he bottoms out. “This motherfucker is so good. You got some good pussy, wife. Wrap them thick-ass thighs around me.” The minute I do, he’s pounding my pussy to oblivion. Giving me no quarter, hitting my delicious spot again and again until I see stars.
“Yes, Mathias, fuck me,” I cry, coming all over his pounding dick.
