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“Let me bear your mark, love,” she whispers reverently, “and together, we’ll share its weight.”
Her fingers grip my arms, and she turns me to face her.
“You don’t want to bear the weight of my sins,” I confess. “You’re unworthy of such suffering.”
“I thought we established you didn’t get to tell me what to do anymore?” She grins and lowers to her knees, her palms trailing across my arms, over my chest, and down my abs until her knees rest on the tile.
I swallow thickly. “I don’t recall ever hearing that rule.”
The way her eyes sparkle under the shower light, loving and mischievous, she could get me to agree to anything, and by the way my body stands frozen under her touch, languid and pliant, she knows it, too.
“Shall I stop, husband, so we can debate?”
Fuck no. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with the shower sprayer than for her to stop now.
“Is that a no?” she teases me when I can’t answer, and it makes her all too happy to know she has this control over me. I should be more shocked that she has this much authority over me, but I’ve always known that Reese Carmichael has held me a prisoner long before I held her.
Reese’s tongue swipes out under the warm spray of water, licking the seam of my cock, where a bead of pre-cum awaits. “Mmm. You taste like mine, Mr. Cain.”
Gripping the back of my thighs, she pulls me closer, opening her mouth wider and burying my cock down her throat. My knees buckle from the pleasure as I lean forward, my palm smacking the tile wall behind her.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan.
I’ve fucked this woman’s mouth before, but it feels different this time.
Sure, she angers me to the point of murder, but she pleasures me to the end of salvation. This is my wife. The woman who was created just for me. She’s more passionate about justice and kindness than anyone I know. Above all, though, she’s brave. She dared to love a man, despite his faults, for all eternity.
“Are you still with me, lover?” she taunts from below before cupping my balls in one hand and applying pressure while she works my cock with a steady rhythm.
“I am with you,” I pant as the pressure increases with each of her pulls. “I—”
Her mouth seems to grip me from the inside, sending an explosion through my body as I come down her throat, watching as she drinks me dry.
Yeah, this woman is mine—forever.
“Stop,” Reese clips, narrowing her eyes to slits. “You’re scaring everyone with your bad attitude.”
I think it was when I threatened to set this shitty parlor on fire when her tattoo artist lingered after asking Reese to remove her shirt, but if a bad attitude is what she wants to call it, fine by me.
“He has to see my back to put the tattoo there, Van.”
I’m aware of the process; doesn’t mean I have to allow another man to help her do it.
“No one helps remove your clothes but me.”
I dare the bastard to offer again. Not only will I burn down his tattoo parlor, but I’ll also incinerate the entire street just for allowing him to work here.
Can he help my wife remove her shit… Yeah, when I can help him see God.
Fucker.
“Fine. Do what you need to do to keep these people safe.”
At least Reese understands the severity of this man’s fuck-up.
“Lie down,” I demand.
She knows she has to pay the price. Did I not warn her at the courthouse not to draw attention from other men? I believe I did.
