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And I don’t say anything.
I just circle around the punching bag until I’m standing in front of him.
He’s quiet. Just breathing heavily. But I can see it in my husband’s eyes. He’s tired. And angry.
And I want to give him something.
I step closer and press my hands to his body, parting his already open shirt so I can take in his strong chest, his muscular stomach.
I slide my hands lower.
When I reach his belt, Dom’s hands move, grasping my wrists.
And that’s when I see the blood.
It’s his own. His own split knuckles from slamming his bare fists into tough leather over and over again for an hour.
And my heart clenches for him.
This man carries the weight of so many people on his back.
I know I can never carry that burden for him. But maybe I can help ease it.
With my mouth.
He doesn’t remove his hands, but he doesn’t stop me either as I undo his belt.
And he doesn’t stop me when I unbutton his pants or when I pull the zipper down.
And he lets go of my wrists when I sink to my knees, allowing me to drag his pants and boxers down with me.
My fingers graze over his newest tattoo in the process, and I stare at the base of his already swollen cock. Which is still growing.
I wet my lips, and his length bobs in reaction.
He’s sweaty. Still breathing heavily. His dick is inches from my face. And I’m so turned on I’m going to start dripping onto the floor.
I pull at the material pooling around Dominic’s bare feet, and he lifts one foot, then the other, so I can push it away.
Looking down at me, Dominic peels his shirt off his shoulders, tossing that aside as well.
Neck to ankles, his tattoos make him look like a mythical soldier. A man made solely for battle. A protector.
A man made for me.
I shift up onto my knees so my mouth is level with his hips. But before I close the distance between us, I reach down and untie my dress, unwrapping the sunshine material until it’s hanging open at my sides. Exposing my front to Dominic and the fact that I have nothing on underneath.
His next exhale is audible. And before he can stop me, or decide he wants something else, I lean forward and wrap my lips around the head of his cock.
We both moan.
And wetness floods my center.
I grab the base of his dick at the same moment he digs his hands into my hair.
His hold is tight, and it’s like he’s trying to stop me from taking him deeper. But I want this. I want to do this for him.
I stick my tongue out, licking the underside of his length, tasting as much as I can as I lean against his hold.
