“You don’t think love is real?”
“I trust that it’s real. I believe that it’s real. I know what I feel for you inside my heart, my soul, is real. But when I think and try to know, that’s when I start to wonder and doubt and… remember.”
She was pretty sure his sudden bout of remembering was really eating at him.
“You can tell what you remember,” she said. “You never talk about your past.”
“I don’t want or need to talk about my past. It’s over. I can’t change one second about it. Can’t we just be happy with what we have now? Does it really matter that I have a hard time believing you love me because no one has ever wanted to love me before? I mean, shit, Reb, you can’t possibly want to love me. I’m a fucking train wreck. I keep waiting for you to say, I’m over it. Thank God I finally came to my senses. I must have been drugged or something. Who would ever want to love that weirdo?”
Her heart twisted until she thought her chest might implode.
“Eric, I want to love you,” she said. “I do. I’m glad I love you. Can I help how I feel? No. I think I pretty much have to love you at this point—you are beyond wonderful to me, but I also want to love you. You deserve so much love in your life. I willingly give you all I have. I promise you that.”
But would it ever be enough? The thing that could fill his life with more love, all the love he could possibly ever need—a child of his own—she could never give him. So he needed a whole lot of loving to compensate. She just hoped she had enough.
“If I promise to believe you love me, can I carry you over the threshold, strip that dress off you, and fuck you like there’s no tomorrow?”
She sighed, knowing this would go nowhere as long as his thoughts were consumed with lust.
“I’m not sure what you’re waiting for,” she said with a smile, resolved to tackle the issue when he was ready. At the moment he was only ready for one thing, and she knew she could meet that need for sure. “Are you going to make me wait for it, husband? My pussy is dripping for you, you know.”
“Woman,” he growled, “why do you torment me?”
“Because I love you,” she said.
She squeaked in surprise when he scooped her into his arms and carried her over the threshold.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Sticks,” he said.
“Welcome home, Mr. Sticks,” she returned.
“Now for that bed.” He only managed a few steps before getting caught in her train and stumbling into the wall behind the open front door. “I’m sorry, but this dress has to go. Who invented these things? Fathers who wanted their daughters to remain virgins on their wedding night?”
Laughing, Rebekah clung to his neck. “Take my virginity now, husband,” she said. “Please!”
“I was going to carry you to bed before fucking you like there’s no tomorrow,” he said.
“If there was really no tomorrow, would you bother taking me to bed, or would you fuck me right here on the foyer floor with my skirt over my head?”
He paused for a second, glancing out of the corner of his eye as he contemplated her logic. “Good point.”
Eric set her on her feet and the door slammed closed. Startled, she turned around, and it took her a long moment to register what she was actually seeing.
“Eric!” she squeaked. “Where are your pants?”
He grinned down at his stiff cock, standing proud just beneath the hem of his white T-shirt. “I left them in the car. Didn’t think I’d need them.”
She snorted with laughter, wondering if any of their neighbors had driven by and witnessed bare-assed Eric in his tuxedo jacket and Converse tennis shoes standing on the front porch.
She crooked a beckoning finger at him, her cheeks aching from smiling so broadly. “Come here, you.”
“Am I in trouble?”
He took a hesitant step forward, and she clutched his shirtfront in one hand before dragging him to the floor on top of her.
“You’re in huge trouble,” she said, tumbling him onto his back. “I’m sure the cops are on their way at this very moment to arrest you for indecent exposure.”
His eyes widened. “Quick! Hide the evidence.”
She grinned wickedly. “My pleasure.”
She straddled his hips and carefully arranged her skirts around them. “They’ll never find it now,” she said. “No one would ever think to look under there.”
His mouth dropped open as she rubbed her ass against his hard length. She wasn’t sure what had him so excited. Actually, Eric was always excited. She’d have been surprised if he weren’t.
“I think they might check under your skirt,” he said breathlessly. “Can’t you think of a better place to slip it into? Someplace warm and soft and slick.”
If her panties hadn’t been in the way, she’d have already slipped it into someplace warm and soft and slick.
One of his hands yanked her loosened bodice down so he could palm her breasts. His other hand was lost somewhere beneath the billowy cloud of her skirt.
“You’ll have to give me a hint,” she said. “Where do you want it?”
Beneath her skirt, his hands stroked her skin, slowly making its way toward the moist heat between her thighs. His fingers slipped beneath the elastic at the crotch of her panties. Her eyelids fluttered as he stroked her inner folds and teased her opening.
“This feels about right,” he whispered.
“It feels right to me.” She lifted her hips so he could guide himself into her.
She sank down on him with a sigh of pleasure. The panties cutting into her tender flesh delivered an unexpected thrill as she began to rise and fall over him. She took her time, rotating her hips to work him deep inside her body, staring into his eyes to work him deep inside her heart.
She didn’t fuck him like there was no tomorrow. She made love to him like there were infinite tomorrows that still wouldn’t be enough.
Chapter Eleven
Eric watched Rebekah through half-closed eyes because the feel of her above him, around him, made it difficult to hold his eyelids open at all. The floor at his back was hard, cool, and unyielding, but the woman above was all softness, warmth, and comfort—his personal bliss. The fading sunlight glowed orange through the windows on either side of the entry door and bathed his wife in the surreal golden aura of the divine, of someone gifted to him directly from the heavens. An angel. His angel.
And he was certain the pussy squeezing and tugging him toward oblivion was lined with warm, molten gold. Eric had had his share of Certified Grade A Pussy in his life, but Rebekah’s out-fucked them all. Which made it all but impossible to hold his desire in check.
He closed his eyes a moment and allowed himself to concentrate on nothing but the hot, slick flesh surrounding him. Tugging. Rubbing. Encompassing. His belly clenched and his balls tightened. He gasped as a hard spasm at the base of his cock made it jerk inside her.
“Rebekah?” he called breathlessly.
“Not yet, baby. Almost.”
He dug his fingertips into the hardwood beneath him and forced his orgasm back—knowing exploding inside her would feel fan-fucking-tastic now but would be even better if he could delay his gratification longer.
He pried his eyes open, needing to focus on something other than the feel of her rising and falling over his over sensitized length.
She was still aglow with the light of the sunset. Her chin-length blond and purple hair swayed each time her hips lowered. His gaze traveled down the delicate curve of her jaw, slender neck, prominent collarbones, and the gentle swells of her breasts above the cups of her lacy bra.
If only he’d thought to unhook it when he’d been pressed against her back earlier. He knew he couldn’t reach the hooks without shifting positions. As if reading his mind, Rebekah reached behind her back and released the clasp. When he glanced up, she smiled at him. Apparently his fixated gaze had made him easy to read. She slipped the straps down her arms and tossed the bra aside. His gaze wan
dered downward and he was blessed with the sight of her perky tits bouncing enticingly above the loosened bodice of her billowing white dress. He lifted a hand to cup one breast, stroking the rosy nipple at the center. She moaned, churning her hips to work her clit against him. She was close, he realized. He considered fumbling around beneath her dress until he found her center—he knew he could send her flying with a few strokes of her clit—but damned if she didn’t look hot with her tongue pressed against her upper lip and her eyes squeezed shut as she sought her release.
He plucked her nipple, and her back arched.
“Yes,” she groaned.
She rose and fell over him faster now. Harder. Pausing every few down strokes to rub herself against him, seeking fulfillment. Her moans became cries of ecstasy.
“Almost,” she said in a breathless gasp. “Eric. Eric!”
This still wasn’t easy for him—timing their orgasms so they could come together—but she was well worth the effort to try. He could hold back just long enough for her to come. He hoped. He fought the urge to help her along and clenched his eyes closed, concentrating on the feel of her around him, waiting, waiting for the feel of her pussy’s involuntary clenching as her body tumbled into the abyss. He was concentrating so hard on not coming that his orgasm took him by surprise.
“Oh shit! Rebekah,” he groaned. His hips lifted off the floor as hard pulses of pleasure gripped the base of his cock.
Rebekah cried out as her pussy squeezed him rhythmically, tugging hard at his jerking cock, intensifying his pleasure, drawing it out, making his entire body quake with unparalleled bliss.
She shuddered for several intense moments and then collapsed on top of him, still shaking with aftershocks of ecstasy. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and press her closer to his chest, but he couldn’t move his arms.
“I love you,” she whispered. “My sex-god husband.”
He grinned crookedly at her praise. “I owe that all to you.”
She giggled, her pussy tightening around his softening cock with the shake of her body. “I knew you had it in you. We just had to bring it out.”
“You bring it out tirelessly several times a day.”
“It’s a tough job…” She snorted and lifted her body from his to sit astride his hips. “Well, we’re married. It’s been consummated in the foyer. Now what? Watch TV?”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Are you serious?”
She shrugged, but couldn’t hide the devious gleam in her pretty blue eyes. “Isn’t that what typical married couples do?”
“I refuse to be typical. And I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.” He was starting to feel the uncomfortableness of the hard floor. “You are going to take off that dress, and then we are going to bless every room in this house with an orgasm.”
Rebekah’s eyes widened. “There are six bedrooms.”
“And a kitchen. Dining room. Parlor. Living room. Conservatory. Four bathrooms.”
“Even you can’t come that many times in one night.”
“Mrs. Sticks, I didn’t say I was going to have an orgasm in every room, but one of us will.”
She leaned over to kiss him and then propped herself up with her hands on either side of his head to gaze into his eyes. “I think I’m going to like this game.”
He grinned. “Yes. Game. We’re currently tied one orgasm to one. He with the highest score by the end of the night gets breakfast in bed in the morning.”
“He with the highest score?” Rebekah shook her head slowly, sending soft blond locks caressing her flushed cheeks. “I think you mean she with the highest score. I’m planning to win this competition.”
Eric grinned. He actually planned to make her win, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “The game starts as soon as you’re naked.”
“You’re going to have to help me with that. I can’t reach the buttons.”
“I think I can manage,” he teased and winced as he struggled into a sitting position. His body protested the ache in his lower back. “I need to add a rule to this game,” he said.
“You can’t change the rules after it’s begun.”
“You aren’t naked yet, so it hasn’t begun.”
“Fine,” she said. “What’s the new rule?”
“No more fucking on the floor. At least not tonight.”
“But I can kneel on the floor, right?”
His cock twitched with interest as he pictured her kneeling at his feet while he drove his cock down her throat. “Only if you put a pillow beneath your knees.”
“Deal,” she said. “Now get this goddamned dress off me. I want to play.”
He wrapped his arms around her and unfastened the rest of the buttons at her back by feel. His lips moved across the warm skin of her throat and collarbones as the tiny pearls came free from their satin loops one pop at a time.
When he freed the last of the buttons, he splayed his hands over her smooth bare back and drew her naked breasts against his T-shirt. She pushed his tuxedo jacket from his shoulders and tugged at his T-shirt impatiently. Within moments they were naked and kissing, touching and groaning, but still in the foyer.
“Where next?” she asked eagerly, her eyes alight with adventure and longing and love.
Was it even possible to love someone as much as he loved her? Fuck, she was perfect.
He helped her to her feet before climbing to his own. He switched on the lights, took her hand, and led her into the chef’s kitchen. The large but country-cozy room glowed invitingly under the soft lighting.
“Welcome to our kitchen,” he said. “This is where I eat.”
“Don’t you eat in the dining room?” she asked.
“Formally. I’ll show you how I eat formally next.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she giggled. “But this is where I eat most of the time, because it’s quicker and more convenient. Are you hungry?”
“I’m always hungry for you, baby.”
“But are you hungry for food? We haven’t eaten all day.”
She scrunched up her forehead and covered her belly with both hands. “Now that you mention it… I guess I was so full of wedded bliss that I didn’t notice.”
Eric opened the refrigerator and hunted for something edible. There were still leftovers from his birthday feast. He went straight for the mostly demolished cake. “How does cake sound?”
“I thought maybe you’d prefer pie,” she said from behind him.
He turned and almost dropped the cake. She was sitting on the counter with her feet planted on the granite surface and her legs wide open. She rubbed at her clit with two fingers. “You want some? It’s not an ordinary pie. The more you eat it, the creamier it gets.”
He loved how his sweetheart of a wife could get raunchy without any provocation or warning. It was one of the things he liked best about her.
“That is one delicious-looking pie,” he said, his mouth watering with anticipation and his cock stirring with interest. He managed to regain his composure enough to carry the cake across the space between them and set it safely on the counter beside her.
“Isn’t that counter cold?” he asked, moving to stand between her legs.
“I’m so hot for you, I hardly noticed.”
His chest swelled with what had to pride and he kissed her deeply, nudging her hand from her self-inflicted pleasure so he could claim the victory of making her come. He slipped two fingers inside her and massaged her clit with his thumb. She groaned into his mouth. Unable to resist the allure of watching his fingers claim her, he tugged his mouth away and stared down to where they were buried in her silky heat. He worked them in and out, churning them in wide arcs to watch her flushed and swollen flesh accept his invasion.
Rebekah’s hands moved to rest on his shoulders, and she pressed down almost imperceptibly, but he knew what she wanted. She wanted him to eat. And he was suddenly starving. He kissed his way down her chest, pausing at her breasts to kiss and suck and nibble her pebbled nipples. Her fingers
dug into his scalp, and she rocked against his hand, murmuring soft moans of encouragement as he rammed his fingers deeper, stretched her wider, and tapped her clit with his thumb to remind her where his lips would soon be. He moved lower, sucking feather-light kisses down her trembling belly. He nibbled her clean-shaven mons, delivering sharp nips that made her beg for what she actually wanted.
“Oh please, Eric. Please,” she whispered.
He grinned. He would win this round for sure. When his tongue slid into her seam and brushed against her clit, her body jerked. He flicked her clit rapidly with the tip of his tongue, gave it a hard suck, then rubbed it with the flat of his circling tongue.
Her pussy was soaked—from their combined cum from earlier and her freely flowing juices. The excess lubrication made it easy for him to slip his little finger into her ass.
“Oh God, Eric!” she said. “You are the best multifunction vibrator ever made.”
He chuckled and used her compliment as inspiration, pressing his lips against her clit and blowing steady vibrations through her flesh. She cried out as she shattered with orgasm. He finger-fucked her while her body, consumed in the throes of passion, strained and jerked violently.
When she settled a bit, she pulled him up against her so she could wrap her arms and legs around him and rest her head against his shoulder. Her heart thudded hard and fast against his chest, and her breath warmed the skin over his collarbone in shaky bursts. His right hand was still buried between her thighs, but he wrapped his left arm around her back to hold her close.
“I win,” she said with a breathless chuckle. “Current score: two big Os for Rebekah, Eric one.”
“I can still catch up,” he said.
“If I let you,” she said in a teasing tone.
“That sounds like a challenge. I can still go back to my old ways, you know.” He’d always been able to come frequently. It was the duration of the buildup that he used to struggle with.
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