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In a
flash, my back hit our bed, and my wrists were restrained in one of his hands. Will’s lightning-filled eyes were again beating into mine, and his breath was heavy against my face. He was on all fours above me, his trousers gone.
“Open,” he commanded, his voice and his massive body shuddering with hunger. I obediently opened my legs, spreading them as wide as possible in the space that he’d given me. “I’ll do many things to you tonight, Elle, but first, I’m going to be inside you. I need to feel you now.”
It was clear that Will was overwhelmed by suppressed emotion. Fear, desire, anger, love—it didn’t matter which were affecting him, he processed them all in the same way, compartmentalizing and repressing until we freed everything in bed. Will needed for us to go to the place where our souls would fully connect so that he could feel what was in his heart and release it.
I lifted my face, raising my mouth to meet his, demanding that he take whatever he needed to recement his broken pieces.
“Me too. Make me feel you,” I said tenderly against his lips.
“I love you,” he whispered back, releasing my wrists.
Tears slipped away from me. He kissed them.
In a deliberate manner, I pulled down my hands from above my head and dragged my fingertips along his neck, his strong shoulders, his broad chest. I was aware of each beautiful scar that marked Will’s body as I passed over them. Injuries he’d suffered for me. Finally, as he lowered himself between my thighs, I wrapped my arms around his torso.
Will’s mouth covered mine, and we shared one breath. It was more than a kiss. It was our confession and our redemption. It was our survival. It was us.
He slid into me, stretching me, ecstasy vibrating in my gut, my bones, my blood, like butterflies flitting about wildly in a glass jar. He pulled out and filled me again with a sharp thrust.
“Oh God,” I cried out, and he captured the sound with his mouth, drawing it into himself.
“Angel . . . you save me,” he said, angling my hips as he wanted them. He made love to me, then, pounding into me over and over, until everything else around us burned away and our bodies and our souls were one. I screamed his name when an orgasm swept through me, and moments later, my husband roared loudly through his own climax.
4
Ellie
Christmas Day
I was enveloped in Will’s arms when I woke the next morning. My back was pressed tightly against his chest, and his erection was pushed between my thighs. His lips were on the back of my neck. He caressed my skin, leaving his heat wherever he touched me. His hand glided along the curves of my body until he reached his intended target, where he circled my clit with his long fingers.
I moaned. God, it was so good. . . . He was so good.
“Happy Christmas, Wife,” he said. I couldn’t see the arrogant smile on his face, but I could hear it layered in the tone of his voice.
“Yes, it is,” I exhaled with another moan.
We had made love throughout the night, taking breaks to talk about the future of our family and indulge in slices of wedding cake. At one point, Will had swiped some of the Swiss buttercream icing from a plate on the bedside table, smeared it on my breasts, and removed it with his hot mouth.
We’d finally fallen asleep just before dawn.
And now, only a few hours later, I wanted him again. I was already close to coming, so I arched my back and elevated my position against his body. I reached behind me and positioned the head of his erection at my entrance. A primitive grunt rumbled in his chest as he shoved himself inside me.
He stilled and kissed my neck again. “Slow and easy this time, baby.” Then he removed his hand from between my legs.
“Will, please. Now. Please.” I fumbled for his hand like some crazed nymph.
“You’ll come when I allow it.” He pinned my arm across my chest. “You’ll wait for me.”
I nodded, giving over to him, granting him control of my body. “Yes.”
“Good girl. Move with me slowly.”
I rocked my hips back against him, matching his gentle rhythm as he slid in and out of me, my husband, making sweet, slow love to me this time. A complete contrast to his glorious eruptions of fierce need.
His breathing and his pace soon accelerated, and another few minutes later, he released my arm and rewarded me with the return of his fingers.
