by Tawny Taylor
He sat, loaded up the pouf with more fragrant gel, and said, “I’m going to wash your front now.”
She closed her eyes and nodded.
“Open your eyes, Lei.”
She didn’t want to, but she did it.
His I’m-going-to-eat-you-alive smile was gone, replaced with an expression that was much less threatening. He reached out, centering the pouf on her chest, just below her chin. “Touching isn’t always sexual, Lei. Everyone needs to be touched.”
“I know. In my head. But when someone touches me, something clicks inside, and I start to panic.” Her gaze dropped to the water again. It was hard to look at him, to see the wanting in his eyes. He was a man. He had the same needs as any man. As the men who had once paid to own her. “I mean, I’ve heard about infants dying from lack of human touch. It’s frustrating that I can’t just get over it and go on with my life.”
“I’m going to help you.” His hand moved in slow, small circles. The scratchy plastic netting abrading her chest, then her shoulder, then the other one. It moved toward the center again. Down between her breasts to her stomach. “This is okay, right?”
“I’m okay.”
It swirled round and round for a while on her stomach, moving up and down. It never reached her breasts and never descended as far as her mound. It stayed in safe territory. Nonsexual territory.
He motioned for her to scoot back a bit, away from him, and extended a hand. “Your leg.”
She did exactly as he asked and lifted a leg. He began at her foot, scrubbing the sole, working his way up toward her thigh. It felt wonderful, and not once did she feel that awful gut-twisting sensation in her belly. Relaxing, she leaned back and closed her eyes.
“Yes, that’s it,” he said. “I’m glad to see you’re enjoying this.”
“I am. I really am.”
He moved to the other leg without ever reaching too-close-for-comfort territory. “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”
“But I worry—”
“Don’t. You know what your problem is? You overthink things. You need to turn off the brain and focus on sensation.”
He was right. Though she’d never realized it before. “Easier said than done. Thinking comes naturally to me.”
“Your eyes are closed. What are you feeling?”
She thought about his question.
“Don’t think. Just describe the sensations.”
“Okay. I’m feeling the scratchy netting abrading my skin, making it warm.”
“What else?” he asked.
“I feel your fingers on my calf, your hand supporting my leg.”
“And...?”
“The warm water rippling when you move, caressing my skin.” She inhaled deeply. “And I smell the lavender. In the bath gel.”
“Good. Now you’re getting it.”
“And I hear water dripping. The echo of my voice against the tile.” She licked her lips. “And I taste soap.”
“Now, how do you feel?”
Again, she started thinking.
“No, don’t think about your answer. Describe how you feel.”
“I feel warm and wet. My body feels heavy. My heart is beating slowly, the pulse thumping through my head. Content. Happy.”
A soft splash told her he’d dunked the pouf into the water again. But it didn’t return to her leg. His hand did. It skimmed up, from her ankle, over her shin, to her knee.
“How do you feel?” he asked again.
“A little less relaxed,” she admitted, aware of the muscles in her leg tensing.
“What do you feel?” he asked as his hand inched a little higher.
“A hand moving slowly up my leg. Over my knee.”
“What else?”
“My muscles tightening. Calf. Foot. Thigh.”
His voice was smooth and deep, calming, soothing. “Relax your feet. Your legs. Your arms. Your face.” As he said each body part, she focused on it, loosening the muscles. “Yes, that’s the way.” His hand inched higher. It skimmed her lower thigh. “Relax your stomach. Your back. Your chest. Breathe in, out. Slowly.”
She did exactly as he said, and the little bit of tension that had started to wind through her body melted away. To her utter amazement, a very different kind of tension began coiling deep inside her body, the good kind. “Wow,” she whispered.
“What is it?” His hand stopped, his fingers a few precious inches from the flesh that was warming between her legs.
“Don’t stop.” Again, she focused on what she felt, the pulse beating in her neck, the almost imperceptible caress of the water, the sweet scent of lavender. The smell of his skin. Her husband. Hers.
She reached out, covered his hand with hers, and eased it between her thighs. A rush of erotic heat blazed through her body the instant his fingers grazed her labia. She gulped in a shallow breath.
Disjointed images flashed through her mind. Ugly. Horrid. She shoved them out and focused on the pleasure of his intimate touch. Using her fingers, she moved his, making his index finger slip between her labia to find her clit. A hard tremble shook her.
“There,” she whispered. “They never touched me there.” She moved her hand away and parted her legs for him.
His touches were soft at first, little flicks back and forth, up and down. They sent mini storms of white-hot pleasure zinging through her body like electricity. Her nerves jumped. Her muscles clenched. It was delicious.
He added a second finger, slowly sliding in and out of her pussy, knuckle scraping that special spot that made her toes curl. In and out, in and out it went. The other one danced over her clit. Together, they sent pulses of wanting through her body. She was getting hot. Too hot. Too tight. She wanted more. She wanted to be filled.
“Malek, I need you.” She heard the desperation in her own voice.
He scooped her out of the water as if she were weightless, and both dripping wet, rushed out of the room, back to the bed. As he laid her on the mattress, she lifted her eyes to his.
He was staring down at her with such raw emotion the sight nearly took her breath away.
She lifted her arms to him. “Hold me. Like a man who loves his wife.”
He crawled onto the mattress and hauled her into his arms. For the first time in many months, an embrace didn’t feel like an entrapment. It felt wonderful. It felt safe. A warm cocoon. A sanctuary.
She’d come to associate all touches with the horror she’d endured those many months she’d spent in slavery. But now, she could feel the difference. Not all touches were the same. Malek’s touches weren’t the same. His were healing. His soothed her soul.
She slid her arms around his waist and hugged him with all her might. She turned her face, nuzzling the crook of his neck while one of his hands skimmed up and down her back in a slow, steady rhythm.
Could it be this simple? That she’d be healed so easily? Just from the power of an embrace?
God, she hoped so.
He cupped her chin, lifting it. Her gaze followed. From his neck to his adorable chin. To his kissable lips. To the straight blade of his nose. Over to the hollow line of his cheekbone. And finally up to his eyes.
“Say the words, my wife. Tell me you’re ready, and we’ll complete the vows we spoke yesterday.”
“I want to belong to you. Only you,” she whispered. “You are my sanctuary.”
He kissed her.
21
Malek’s balls were so tight and high, he was choking on them. And his blood was burning through his body like molten lead. But he wouldn’t let himself lose control. Oh, hell no. Not after waiting and working, patiently, all this time.
At last, he had what he’d been hoping for. He had her in his arms. And, oh yes, it was heaven.
Despite his determination to maintain control, his kiss was anything but controlled. His lips crushed hers, the kiss hard, feral. His tongue pushed into her sweet depth, stroking, tasting, drawing her flavor into his mouth. She was so sweet, intoxicating, he
couldn’t get enough.
Her fingers curled, her nails digging into his shoulders. The pain only amplified his need. The sound of their gasps and sighs filled their joined mouths. And that did nothing to help him keep his tenuous grip on his self-control.
Keep it real. Show her how you feel.
He broke the kiss and dragged in a few much-needed deep breaths. “I love you, Lei. More than words. More than life.”
“I love you, too, Malek. You make me want to be a better person. You make me want to be whole again.” She took his hand and placed it on her breast. His balls tightened even more. “I’m ready, Malek.”
“Are you sure?” If she wasn’t, he would have to find the strength, from somewhere, to put on the brakes. He prayed he wouldn’t have to do that. Already, he was in agony.
Her lips curled into a soft smile. She nodded. Then, using her hand, she began moving his back and forth across her breast. Mesmerized and completely lost in his need, he let her take complete control. She manipulated his hands, allowing him to caress her breasts, tease the nipples until they were pointy little succulent peaks.
“Can I taste you?” he asked, his voice husky.
“Yes.” She arched her back, pushing her breasts higher into the air, bringing them closer to his mouth.
He bent over her, inhaled. She smelled so good, like woman and desire. His mouth watered as he angled lower, lower.
At the first flick of his tongue, she clamped her fists in his hair. His heart jumped in his chest. His cock jerked. He froze in place.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please.”
A zing of sensual heat pulsed through him at the need in her voice. He pulled her nipple into his mouth and suckled hard, and she whimpered, arched her back even more, and tightened her hold on his hair.
Damn did he love how responsive she was. The sound of her little gasps and whimpers was like the sweetest music to his ears. And her taste. Damn. She was sweet and salty, utter perfection. Using his teeth, he grazed the turgid flesh.
“Oh God!” she murmured. “Ohmygod! Yes. Again.”
He nipped then laved, nipped then laved, and each time she cried out for more, more, more.
He moved to the other breast, repeating the process, while she writhed and quaked beneath him. She was like no woman he’d ever fucked—responding to his every touch as if it were her first. It was enough to make him almost lose control.
Her pleasure first, Malek. Always her pleasure first.
Just when he thought he might lose his mind, she yanked his head away, dragged him up so they were nose-to-nose, and kissed him roughly. Her tongue shoved its way into his mouth, tangling with his. He couldn’t help but meet her thrusts, giving exactly what he was receiving. He tasted, teased, tormented her, and she did the same. Within minutes, they were both gasping, covered in a light sheen of sweat, and desperate for more.
Still, Malek resisted the instinct to take control. He ached to feel her hand cupped under his balls, those decadent lips circling his throbbing cock. But he could do nothing but tremble and ache and allow her to shove him back until he was lying on his back and she was straddled over him.
His gaze raked up and down her body. She was absolutely perfect. Everything about her. Her tits were high and full. Her little hard nipples puckered and tempting. Her waist was slender, her hips flared out just enough to make her feminine. Her thighs were slender, the lines of her muscles visible under her smooth skin.
“I admit, watching you fuck makes me wet,” she said, her voice husky. “Almost as wet as watching you dominate a submissive. That drives me crazy.” As she spoke, her hand was gliding down her stomach, toward her smooth-shaven mound.
Talk about driving someone crazy.
His gaze inched lower, to her moist nether lips. They gleamed, slick with her juices. Out of instinct, he licked his lips.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Oh yes.”
Her hand cupped her cunt. “For this?”
“Yes.”
“Hmmm.” She parted her fingers, pulling the puffy outer lips apart. She stroked her clit with the index finger of her other hand, back and forth.
His throat practically closed up, and a surge of erotic hunger blasted through his system. “Come here,” he said, voice hoarse.
She lifted one brow, gave him a seductive smile, then walked on her knees up his body.
Finally, her pussy was right there, above his mouth, her thighs straddling his head. He inhaled, drawing in her luscious scent.
“It’s yours,” she said as she pulled her labia apart for him.
His mouth flooded with saliva. Finally, he would taste her.
“Thank you, baby.” Placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her down until she was practically sitting on his face. With his tongue, he explored her folds, and his mouth filled with her delicious flavor. When he finally found her little clit, she reached back and fisted his cock.
He growled as an almost overwhelming flare of heat blazed through his body. “Fuck. You’re going to pay for that.”
“For what?” she asked, donning a devil-made-me-do-it smirk. She flicked her fingertip along the flared ridge circling the head, and he bit back a curse.
“You know what.” Tipping his head slightly, he nipped the juncture of her thigh, and she shivered, a coat of goose bumps covering her leg.
“Malek,” she whispered. Her little fist tightened around his cock, amplifying his need.
Her pussy was wet for him. The air was thick with the intoxicating scent of her need. And damn if he didn’t want to shove his cock inside her slick heat and find out how tight and hot she was.
But he couldn’t.
It seemed all those years of honing his control, of mastering his own body, would pay off today. Clearly, his wife wasn’t going to make it easy on him.
“Taste me, please,” she murmured.
He tasted her, but not where she wanted. His tongue flicked up and down along the inside of one thigh, then the other. As he worked, his nose filled with the smell of her arousal. His mouth with the flavor of her need. His eyes with the sight of her surrendering to her body’s demands.
“If you’re going to be so stubborn, I’ll do it myself.” She reached between her legs, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled it away.
“No, you won’t.” He released her wrist immediately, fearing any restraint might ruin what was quickly becoming the most erotically charged experience of his life. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this.
“Fine, I’ll do one better.” Walking on her knees again, she moved backward, taking that decadent pussy out of his reach. She stopped when she reached his hips. Smiled. Took his cock in her hand and dragged it up and down her folds until the head was coated in her slick heat.
Malek groaned, reaching up to grab her hips.
Inch by inch, she lowered herself down, taking him deep. Her slick pussy walls opened to accommodate his girth, then clamped tight.
A deep moan shot from his chest as she lifted her hips and slammed down again.
“How’s that?” she asked, her voice a taunting siren’s call.
He couldn’t stand it. He had to take control.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. She lifted her hands to cup her breasts.
His throat constricted and he swallowed hard. “Not a damn thing.”
She shot him a wicked grin, then, moving carefully, rotated around, his cock still deep inside. Now he had a full view of her back and ass as she rode him hard. That ass slapped the base of his stomach with each bouncing descent. The sound of skin striking skin seemed to reverberate through his whole body. With each sharp slap, a blast of erotic heat shot from his center.
Surrendering to his own overpowering need for release, he rocked his hips, meeting his wife’s strokes, driving himself deeper into her tight little cunt. His muscles were tightening, his breathing growing ragged. So hot. Trembling. On the verge of orgasm.
Now.
His cum was there, at the base of his cock. One more thrust. Just one more. And it would be over.
Not yet!
Moving swiftly, he sat up, tackling her onto her back and pinning her arms over her head. He panted as he stared into the wide eyes of his wife and struggled to recover. Beneath him, Lei wriggled, fighting to regain control of him.
That wasn’t going to happen.
“Now it’s my turn.”
Lei couldn’t breathe. The air had been sucked from the room. A brief memory flashed through her mind, but as quickly as it came, it vanished, and she was left lying on her back, staring into Malek’s dark eyes, her body a big tangled mass of wanting and needing.
She’d pushed him to his limit; then she’d pushed him more. And this was what she got.
Not that she was surprised. Or disappointed.
This felt good, lying beneath him, vulnerable and powerless. It felt right.
Malek gathered her wrists into one hand, placed his free hand on her left breast, and smiled. “Your heart’s pounding. Your face is flushed a pretty shade of pink. And your pussy is wet. This is what you want, isn’t it, Lei? You were pushing me, taunting me, because you wanted me to lose control, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Malek.”
With an index finger, he drew little swirling lines down her center, from her breastbone down her belly, over her belly button, to her mound. “This beautiful body is mine now. Mine to touch. Mine to worship.” His finger skimmed back up, circled a nipple.
She smiled as her gaze meandered over his face. It was hard to believe that this gorgeous, patient, loving man was her husband. That she would spend the rest of her life in his arms. Her sanctuary. Her salvation. Someday, she would hold their child, would look into their son’s eyes and see his father. This was just the beginning of their journey, and already she couldn’t wait to see where they would go from here.
“Malek, I need you.”
“I need you, too, Lei. More than I have ever needed another person.” He eased her legs apart. “Your pussy is so tight. I can’t stand waiting another minute.” After positioning his hips between her thighs, he scooped her ass into his hands, lifting it up. “Look me in the eyes as I enter you. Don’t hide.”