“Like it had been photoshopped?” I suggested, giving her a look that yelled at her to pick up what I was putting down.
“What do you mean, photoshopped? Who would add nail polish to a photo of themself, what would that gain?”
My god, the woman could be so dense, beautiful and hardworking, but so bloody dense sometimes.
“Makena, did you ever consider the woman in that picture was, in fact, you. The scene doctored so it didn’t appear to be you but another woman?”
The photo was in my office in Melbourne, locked in my personal safe. I never got rid of it; instead, keeping it like the USB as a reminder that love meant heartbreak and betrayal, now I wished I’d carried it with me.
Something was telling me I was right, someone for some reason planted doctored evidence with the hopes of breaking Makena and I up. But who and why?
“Me? No, it wasn’t me, I would never … I mean, it couldn’t have been me, her hair was a different brown … lighter.” Even as she stumbled through her memories, I could see the doubt seeping in. Finally, she was seeing things with clarity and not as a scorned wife.
“Who would do that? What possible reason would someone have to split us—”
“What, tell me, what?”
“Nothing, nothing. What about the tape?”
I narrowed my eyes, frustration settling in my gut. She was stalling again, hiding.
“I have it, but I want both pieces of evidence in front of me before I listen to it for the first time,” I explained, letting her have her way once again. She had been through enough retelling the harrowing birth she’d endured, and to be honest, I was about done talking about this shit myself, at least for now. My mind was still reeling from the story of Daxx’s painful entry into the world and the bombshell of the photo; I’d had enough bad news to deal with today.
“Why haven’t you listened to it, Noxx? It was your voice; there is no mistaking that,” Makena insisted. She was now sitting back off my chest, but still on my lap, her nightgown’s thin shoestring straps had slipped down her arms, the neck of the nightie loose on her chest, giving me a tantalising and mouth-watering glimpse at the tops of her creamy breasts.
Instantly, my dick hardened, deciding that my brain’s time for control was officially over. With my eyes glued to the askew material and the flesh poking out, I licked my lips hungrily. Makena had a thing for her nipples being played with, and right now, the bullet hard peaks were a temptation I was no longer able to resist.
“The only mistake here is me not putting my mouth on your gorgeous nipples and hearing my beautiful wife moan with pleasure,” I told her as my hand snaked up her arm pulling at the thin string and slowly, pulling it further down until one firm plump globe was exposed. Then I did the same on the other arm; my eyes transfixed to the sight as the material bunched at her waist.
My breath was coming out in pants, deep, rushed pants. Last night, Makena kept her breast pressed against my chest, I only got a quick look at them when I first walked in and caught her naked, or mostly naked. Now, I was going to take my time and savour the sight in front of me.
“My god, you are utter perfection,” I whispered reverently, running one finger, just one, up her arm and over the shoulder, then slowly down her neck loving the pretty pink blush staining her skin, taking my time to reach the prize of her stiff pink nipple.
“They got so big when I was breastfeeding I was worried they would stay huge,” Makena breathed, a gasp of surprise leaving her when I moved my finger from its path to land on her lips.
“Shhh, no more talk of that time now. I don’t want to hear anything but your sexy moans when I touch you,” I argued, fighting with my desire to have my wife again and the sensible side I was refusing to listen to. This was a disastrous idea; having sex with Makena again was always in my plan, but that plan was one of a man seeking revenge and closure. Now, everything was different, this new light on the evidence that tore Makena and I apart put a spanner in the works and the plan.
Returning to my exploration, this time using both my hands to cover her breasts, the heaviness familiar yet so different. The skin felt the same, Makena’s reaction the same, but something was new, changed. Growing our son inside her made them bigger, the nipples rounder.
“Jesus, help me, I can’t fucking wait,” I growled before my head dropped to her chest, and I took one taut nub into my mouth and suckled greedily while I worried the other one with my thumb and forefinger. Gently, I worked her nipples with my fingers and mouth, both remembering exactly how she liked me to touch her, how much pressure to use with my mouth, and how hard to squeeze my fingers. Makena knew her body, and she wasn’t scared to tell me what she wanted, or she hadn’t. I couldn’t help wonder if someone else changed that, had another man given her another avenue for her pleasure? Maybe tell her what she wanted instead of letting her make the choice.
For me, my pleasure came from Makena. Watching her reach orgasm, knowing her moans were because of my touch. Her pleasure belonged to me, and only me.
Her body mine.
“How long has it been for you, baby?” I asked on a growl, hating that I even asked the jealous question. Releasing my hands from her hips, I ripped my shirt over my head, tossing it on the bed. Makena’s nightie now sitting low on her hips, her whole torso revealed to my hungry gaze.
“Huh?”
“Sex, Makena, when was the last time for you?” I repeated, running my tongue down one tight bud, before licking my way across the valley separating her globes and giving the other one the same attention.
“Um … oh yes, that is heavenly … what was the question again?” A yelp left her mouth when my teeth scraped her nipple. Breast play was her favourite foreplay, but me? I liked a meal before sex.
Roughly gripping her by the waist, I lifted her off my lap. Easily hauling her to her feet, her legs opened on either side of my thighs. I gave her no time to ask what the hell I was doing; she should know by now how much I loved her riding my face. Freeing her from the flimsy nightgown, I grabbed hold of the lace panties and tore them at the gusset, exposing her ripe, swollen pussy right in front of my watering mouth. Palming her arse, I roughly pulled her forward to my open mouth and licked her hairless pubic mound with the flat of my tongue.
“How long?” I demanded, peppering small painless bites over her lower belly, my fingers digging into the flesh of her arse. Holding a cheek in each hand, I spread them apart, keeping them open so my forefingers could skim the forbidden area of the puckered hole.
“Since our last time!” her frustrated shout music to my ears—no one but me, only my dick, only my mouth and tongue, only my hands. I shouldn’t have felt the delirious pleasure knowing that, and my dick shouldn’t have hardened more in my pants, but I did, and so did my dick.
“Hold onto the bed head baby, I am going to take my hands off you and I don’t want you to fall,” I muttered against her mound, my tongue itched to sink into the warm soaking folds below. Still, I had learned patience a long time ago, and nothing, not even Makena’s shaking body, was going to shift me from my enjoyment.
I waited until she was balanced on the soft mattress, then released my hands and brought them between us and unzipped my jeans, dragging them down to my mid-thighs.
Returning one hand to her, I grabbed hold of my engorged shaft and pumped my fist down my length, the precum at the tip wetting up my dick so I wasn’t rubbing myself raw.
“Oh god, Noxx, I can hear what you are doing,” Makena moaned keenly, looking up, I watched her head fall forward, her eyes on my dick and hand.
Yeah, she loved to watch me jack off, Makena might have been a virgin when I met her, but she knew what she liked, and wasn’t shy to express her wants and needs. Sometimes, I would catch her watching me in the shower, her eyes riveted on my dick. Sometimes, I gave her a show and sometimes she gave me one, but it always finished the same way.
Losing ourselves in one another. Trailing two fingers through her folds, I moaned low
in my throat at the wet, slick heat there. So, fucking soaking, always so fucking wet for me.
“Want me to eat this sweet cunt, Makena, or do you want me to lick your musky cream with my tongue?” God, I was so filthy when it came to this woman, she turned me inside out, so much so that I forgot who I was.
“Open your mouth over me and devour my pussy, Noxx, suck me into your mouth.” The sexy demand was barely out of her mouth when I did exactly as she asked. Opening wide, I made love to her hole much the same as I would her mouth. Over and over, I kissed and sucked at her dripping cunt, all the while pumping my dick with slow constant strokes.
Encouraged by her low growls and high-pitched moans, I peeled open her labia, baring her twitching, sticky clit, then took it between my teeth and pulled on the jewel gently.
Makena screamed, her legs spasmed around me as she flooded my mouth with her climax. Swiping my tongue the length of the slit, I gathered up as much glorious wetness as I could, her taste exploding in my mouth, my hunger for her so insatiable, so intense my dick was close to detonating just from the sounds she made when she came.
No fucking way was that going to happen.
Pressing one last kiss to her quivering clit, I yanked her down to straddle me, her pussy glancing over my rock hard cock.
“Now it’s my turn,” I growled, fisting my cock between us, and placing him at her weeping entrance, I pushed up, impaling myself inside Makena with one long rough trust, her tightness clenching around me like a long lost friend.
Makena’s head dropped back onto her shoulders, her mouth opened and she let out a loud cry of exaltation. Thank god Daxx could sleep through anything, and Mallory had left to be with Tim, at least I presumed so when I saw her car gone from the driveway when I got back. Makena wasn’t shy in bed, but she always got embarrassed whenever Drixx or Fenixx mentioned how loud she could get.
“That’s it, baby, slick up my dick get him nice and wet,” I encouraged, feeling her pussy clamp down on me. Thrusting my hips faster, I pummelled her, deep into her channel. Like last night, I couldn’t stop the roughness of my thrusts, being inside her, feeling the heat this time my body out of control for her.
The sensational familiar tingle speeding down my spine, my balls drawing up almost painfully. Clenching my jaw tightly, I knew I was about to come, the exquisite, suction around my cock too much.
“Come for me, Makena, come before me,” I begged, bracing my hands on her hips, my face planting into her throat, latching my mouth to the soft skin.
“I … I can’t … I need …” Makena sobbed, her body grinding down hard on me, desperately seeking more.
“Tell me, baby, tell me what you need,” I practically begged her, my own desperation causing beads of sweat to form on my forehead.
Makena grabbed one of my hands from her hips, her fingers lacing with mine as she dragged my arm behind her to her soft bottom.
“Here, I want you here,” she whispered urgently, forcing my hand to the cleft of her bum.
“You want my finger in your tight hole, baby? You want me to push it inside you and feel my dick on the other side?” I growled, turned on more than I thought ever possible.
“Yes!” her shout echoed in the room over the sounds of our slapping bodies. Sex sounds always got her hot, panting, moaning; it didn’t matter, Makena’s arousal tripled with the noises we made.
Sliding my finger down her arse, I ran it through the wetness coating my cock, then pushed it slowly inside the puckered entrance.
A deep shudder passed through me the second her hole squeezed around my finger, trapping it halfway in. Through the thin membrane of skin, I felt my cock shifting inside her pussy.
“Jesus, fuck Makena, I’m not going to last.” My voice didn’t sound like mine, laced with a dangerously aroused edge, I grunted as I shoved my finger as far in as Makena would let me. Her hips lifted, with her fingers digging into my shoulders, her channel dragging up my cock she slammed back down on me. Her orgasm rushed all over me; her back entrance decimated my finger as it pulsed with her climax, pushing me over the edge. Biting down on her neck, I held her down while my hips thrust furiously into her, unloading my cum home.
Pulling my finger out, I wrapped my arms around her lower back, my hands splayed and held her still. Small pulses still contracting around my cock, I was nowhere near ready to give up our connection. Panting uncontrollably, my breath hot against her throat, I willed my heart to slow down. Makena’s soft hands ran through my hair, sending tingles and goosebumps across my scalp.
“Dear God,” Makena breathed out, “that was … spectacular, but so bad, so, so bad.”
She murmured into my hair.
“Why?” I whispered, my breathing somewhat regular.
“Because we are—”
Leaning back, I cupped her face and held her, so she was looking directly at me.
“We are married Makena, things are complicated I will give you that, but we are still man and wife, and there is still desire and passion between us,” I argued, a trickle of fear emerging at the thought that Makena was regretting our love making while I was still seated inside her. I hated my weakness, hated that she had so much power over me. It had been this way since our first meeting, one look at her green eyes and dimpled cheeks, and I became hers.
“But—”
“I didn’t cheat on you Makena, I don’t know how I can get that through to you but I will. No woman, not one has ever had me but you. You are going to believe that, baby, by the time I am through, that much you will believe,” I promised urgently, desperate for her to understand.
Wide green eyes filled with tears, the passion that had been there mere seconds ago doused with sadness.
“There is still so much we have to discuss, so many hurdles to get over.” Her forlorn tone breaking me.
“I don’t know if we can, Noxx.”
“Fuck that, Makena. Don’t you give up on me without fighting, don’t do that to me again.” My voice harsher than I intended, but I was fighting for my very life here, my family.
I wanted Makena back, all prior intentions of making her hurt now furthest from my mind. I knew I could do this with her and still protect my heart, wanting her and loving her had to be separate. I was prepared to risk so much of myself, but my heart and my son were off-limits.
Holding her body tight, I breathed in and out several times before I could speak.
“We can do this, Makena; you just have to find the trust you once gave me.”
Several anxious minutes passed with nothing but our soft breathing, my lids heavy with sleep and exhaustion.
Makena’s mouth moved to my forehead, her soft lips pressed there for a moment.
“And your trust in me, Noxx, is that still there?”
Her breathing evened out, her body relaxed completely, and I knew she was asleep, her softly spoken plea ringing in my ears.
“I don’t know baby, I hope so, but I just don’t know.”
Makena didn’t stir, already fast asleep, but for me now, there was going to be no sleep.
MAKENA
“Mumma, when is Daddy coming home?” Daxx asked me for the tenth time in so many minutes, and just like those times, I answered the same way.
“When his meetings are done, Daxx. Daddy has a very important job, he has been slacking off spending so much time with us, but he needed to go and do some work,” I explained as simply as I could keeping my voice light, hoping this time Daxx understood and gave up asking for his father.
Two weeks ago, Noxx and I gave into temptation and embraced the one side of our relationship we could trust. Sex with Noxx had always been passionate and playful. Neither of us were shy trying new things or voicing what we wanted. All Noxx had to do was talk dirty to me, and I would turn into a moaning, adventurous nymph, and end up standing on the bed above him with his mouth devouring me. There weren’t many off-limits in bed, our experimenting with positions and the taboo.
Noxx let me explore my sexual
side, he helped me see that my more darker proclivities concerning sex weren’t disgusting or wrong when done with two people who cared about each other. I didn’t mean sick illegal stuff, or anything revolting. I enjoyed anal penetration of all kinds and Noxx was more than happy to oblige.
The only damper in the last couple of weeks was the underlying tension whenever either of us mentioned the word trust or the L-word.
Noxx said it all the time to Daxx; he never missed a chance to shower love and affection on our son, always playing with him, taking him over to the Triple H to see the horses and the new playground Lillian had installed in the backyard over there. The only thing he didn’t do was show me any of that affection unless we were in bed, and Daxx was asleep. Those times Noxx turned from the distant CEO and into the lover who knew how to work my body. He opened up himself to me in love making only, becoming the man who loved me until the morning light broke through the curtains. Daxx would come into our room, see us in bed together and climb in for cuddles, Noxx’s arms wrapped around the both of us, and for a brief moment, everything that had happened in the past seemed to float into the background. Then reality would hit and Noxx would be back to caring without giving too much of himself.
Oh, he worried about the amount of work I did on the farm, made sure I ate regularly and came inside at a decent hour for story time for Daxx, but he kept me at arm’s length until it was our bedtime. The only clue he gave me that his feelings were still there for me were the heated looks from his ice-blue eyes, and the endearments that slipped from his lips.
I couldn’t blame him, not really, after hearing his idea that someone may have doctored a photo of the both of us to make it look like another woman instead of me. It had merit; I only wish I’d kept the photo and not given it to Noxx. He said he would get it from his office safe the next time he went back to the city, but after two weeks of being here with me at the farm, I thought it would never happen. Now, he was gone, and I still had no idea if he had looked at it yet.
He left in his private helicopter four days ago, an important business trip he couldn’t put off any longer. Daxx had been upset that his dad had to go; that was until he saw the helicopter landing in our paddock, and just like that, Noxx became more than just his dad, he rocketed to legendary superhero status. A day later, Daxx received a special overnighted parcel addressed to him, inside it a red and white remote control copter, a miniature version of his dad’s.
Hott and Taken (The Hott Brothers Book 1) Page 19