One Night with His Wife

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One Night with His Wife Page 6

by Sara Daniel


  Rosalind didn’t push him for a more accurate response. Instead, she massaged his thigh muscles and stroked his inner thighs. Adding her lips to the mix, she feathered light kisses along his sensitive skin, the brim of her hat grazing his stomach. His cock sprang to life, begging for her special brand of attention. Running her tongue along its length, she appeased him and made him desperate for more all at once.

  “Lie down, and turn so you’re not hanging off the bed,” she ordered.

  He shifted to the center of the mattress and reclined but remained propped on his elbows on the pillows so he could watch her.

  “You follow directions nicely.” She winked. “Now we can get this rodeo started.” Imitating a lasso routine, she whipped her arm in the air and twirled it in a circle.

  Luke started to laugh, but her jiggling breasts and hips caused the humor to stick in his throat. She enticed him more with her natural expression than any seductive routine could have. “I might want you to repeat that dance once you’re on top of me. You’ll be closer, and I’ll be able to study you and make sure I didn’t miss an important move.”

  “Oh yeah? You think you need to study up on my moves?” She smirked.

  “A lot of studying.” He added as much gravity to his voice as his dry throat would permit. “Hours and hours. I’m a slow student. I’ll probably need special tutoring.”

  She crept onto the mattress then directly over him, straddling him with one foot on each side of his hips. Her newly-emerged aggressor side turned him harder than the steel pole attached to his left leg. After dropping to her knees, she bent down and pressed her mouth to his. Her soft, deliciously persuasive lips nudged him until he succumbed to lying flat.

  His cock jerked, brushing the wet heat of her pussy. Oh, yes. He wanted to sink in and drench himself in that wetness. He gripped her hips, needing to fill her so damned bad. The tip of his cock slickened, her desire mixing with his pre-cum.

  Shit. “I forgot to put on a condom,” he muttered.

  Instead of pulling her toward him, he braced his arms to keep her from taking him inside. She made him lose his mind. He longed to skip the protection and give her the baby she’d always wanted, the baby he’d promised her before his gait had become less steady than a toddler’s.

  “Got you covered.” She snagged a packet from the box on the nightstand and gave him a naughty smile, her pussy once again teasing the tip of his unsheathed cock.

  “Not yet, you don’t,” he ground out, his common sense and desperate need for her warring within him.

  She laughed and kissed him again, the brim of her hat brushing his forehead. Then she shifted down his thighs and blew gently across his cock.

  He jolted, too far along to be teased, and stroked her soft breasts, hoping his touch would entice her to hurry. “Are you trying to make me come without touching me?”

  “Not trying to, but if you do, we’ll start over, and you can come for me a second time.” She grinned and wiggled her hips, causing her breasts to bounce.

  Sweet Jesus, she was going to kill him. He’d beg her. Not only would he promise her the world, he’d deliver on it, too. But he couldn’t endure her putting off his trip to heaven a moment longer. “Rosie, get a condom on me. We can repeat as many times as you want, but I need to be inside you now.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” She rolled the condom down his length then positioned over him. Lowering her body, she took him all in, like in the pasture.

  But, unlike the last time, she didn’t give him a chance to set the pace. She thrust down and lifted, riding him with as much ease and perfection as she did the horses earlier, her glorious, ripe breasts and hat bouncing.

  Her hat shifted over her eyes, and although the cowgirl fantasy had been hot, Rosalind didn’t need any enhancements to increase the heat she generated in him. Plus, he wanted to see her face. He tossed the hat across the room. “Unbraid your hair.”

  Confusion streaked across her face, and then her eyes widened. “Now?” Her legs trembled at his sides, and her core muscles pulsed around him.

  “Now.” He grasped her hips and picked up the rhythm.

  Within seconds, the wavy strands from the braid cascaded down her shoulders, curling around her breasts, and his hot cowgirl morphed into a rumpled woman in the throes of passion. Damn, he loved the transformation.

  “Luke.” She pumped her hips, lips parted and eyes half-closed. She cupped his balls while he trailed his fingers down her navel, nestled them in her pubic hair and found her clit.

  Her muscles spasmed, and her legs tensed. Slamming down on him one last time, she collapsed onto his chest, shaking and clinging to him.

  Unable to hold back any longer, he shot his ecstasy into her, giving her everything he had. It had been hers from the start, anyway.

  “Rosie.” He rubbed his hand over her damp spine, savoring the continued tremors beneath her skin.

  With his wife in his arms, he had no idea how he’d ever leave her again. But to give her the full life she deserved, the life his presence would keep her from achieving, he had to let her go.

  As Rosalind attempted to rise off Luke, he hugged her tighter. “Going somewhere?”

  “Just rolling over.” She pushed her messy hair out of her face and brushed a kiss over his cheek. If he didn’t let her go, she’d blow her resolution to keep their interactions light. In the midst of sex, she could get away with more passion and clinginess, but she’d convert the “afterglow” into an “after-scared-off” if she didn’t create some space between them.

  “Tired of being on top and want a turn on the bottom?” he teased.

  Yes, please. Not that she’d get tired of any position with him, but her desire for him was insatiable. “I’m going to order some room service. If we’re planning to keep this pace all night, I need sustenance. Unlike a certain sexy Marine, I’m not superhuman.”

  “It’s plenty obvious I’m not superhuman,” he muttered.

  His arms around her slackened, and she took the opportunity to roll off and out of bed against her instinct to prove how the loss of his limb hadn’t weakened him in her eyes. She’d tried plenty of times, and he still refused to believe. Whipping his T-shirt over her head, she padded across the room and placed the order.

  “Tell them the tip doubles if they leave it outside the door,” Luke instructed.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised he refused to give strangers the opportunity to check out his leg or quickly avert their gaze from his prosthetic. He hadn’t wanted her to check it out, and she’d seen every piece of it before. In the past, she’d tried to assure him people didn’t mean any insult by their fascination or discomfort, and only his feelings and response mattered. Apparently, he still wasn’t ready to let others’ reactions roll off him.

  After hanging up, she bent over to gather the clothing strewn across the floor.

  From the bed, Luke groaned. “Oh, baby, you have to put on more clothes than just my shirt before you step into the hall, or I’ll have to fight off every guy in Montana for you.”

  She wiggled her bare ass in the air and shot him a cheeky grin. “You could take them.”

  He threw back the sheet and strode to her, tugging her hips to his pelvis, his cock demanding entry.

  Desire flooded her. “Or, you could, you know, take me instead,” she gasped, grinding her ass against him.

  “My thoughts exactly.” He snagged a condom from the box on the nightstand, the box falling to the floor. Ignoring it, he rotated her toward the bed, positioning her on her knees, facedown on the mattress.

  Her new position left her more vulnerable than she could tolerate, and the light-heartedness she’d been trying to project deserted her.

  “You can tell me to stop anytime,” Luke assured her. “I’ll never hurt you.”

  No, he wouldn’t hurt her physically. But emotionally he’d already hurt her so much, and every time she opened up to him, she let him in to hurt her again.

  Standing behind he
r, he glided his sheathed cock along her wet slit and tantalized her clit until she moaned. Spreading her legs wider, she pushed back into him, so desperate to draw him inside she no longer cared about the defenseless position. When she couldn’t take another second of the delicious teasing, he, at last, drove into her. She cried his name, taking every bit of pleasure he offered. But no matter how much she tried to stockpile the memories for the future, she only had tonight.

  Later, she retrieved the food from outside the door, and they ate naked on the bed. She told him stories of the resort guests she’d met and the young adults who shared her dorm. He talked about the success of his company and his missteps going from an action-oriented Marine to an administrative businessman.

  Then he ended all conversation by flipping her onto her back and demonstrating the best way to eat dessert, while she writhed in ecstasy beneath his clever fingers and delicious tongue.

  The perfect evening emulated the way she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Luke. Unfortunately, she could only enjoy each moment because he had no intention of being part of the rest of her life.

  Chapter Nine

  Luke awoke to the nightstand light illuminating the hotel room, darkness behind the shades outside, and his stump throbbing like an SOB. He glanced at Rosalind. Lips parted, she sprawled naked, beautiful and exhausted on the bed, sleeping in the same position where they’d finished making love.

  She slept so deeply, she wouldn’t notice if he removed his prosthetic to relieve the pain. When she started to stir, he’d put it back on before she awoke. He set the device on the floor next to his side of the bed then pulled up the sheet and wrapped his arm around his wife.

  She snuggled against him, and he drifted off, more content than he could ever remember. All his life, he’d looked ahead, preparing for what came next—the next deployment with the Marines, how to take the next step toward improving his identity theft app and attracting more potential customers, and how to prepare for life after his next leg surgery. But, that night, nothing mattered but holding Rosalind in his arms.

  When he opened his eyes again, streaks of light peeked around the edges of the curtains, and Rosalind faced him, stroking his scruffy cheek, her brown eyes serious.

  He slid his hand down her smooth, naked body, cupping the delectable curve of her ass, and then dipped between her legs. God, he loved how she was already wet for him. He sank his fingers deeper, thrilling when her eyes dilated and her breath stuttered.

  His desire mirroring hers, he rolled her onto her back and shifted on top of her. As he threw his leg over hers, his stump brushed her calf.

  Shit.

  He’d taken off his prosthetic and forgotten to reattach it. No way did he want to remind her he wasn’t whole, especially after he’d spent all night proving just how well his parts worked. He brushed his lips over her cheek and shifted away.

  She lifted her head. “What happened? Why are you leaving?”

  Too ashamed to meet her confused gaze, he stared, unseeing, at the wall. “I’m not up for another round right now.”

  He felt her attention shift to his erect cock. “How much more up do you need to get?”

  Before he could gather his thoughts for an explanation she would understand, she sat up and tossed the sheet aside. He grabbed for it but missed, and his stump lay exposed on the bed before he could shield it from view.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Instead of looking at his leg, she grasped his chin and jerked his face to meet her narrowed eyes.

  “I took the prosthetic off, okay? I can’t sleep while I’m wearing it.” Damn, she had no right to be angry. He was angry with her for seeing him as less than whole. Precisely why he didn’t want anyone in his life, so he didn’t have to defend removing his crap leg whenever he felt like it.

  “You can’t sleep while wearing it, but you can’t have sex without it?” she demanded.

  He swallowed. “Of course I can have sex without it.”

  “But not good, hard sex? Only a pity fuck or a blowjob where you can lie there feeling helpless while I service your baser needs?” If it had been possible, her eyes would have shot mortar fire at him.

  “I don’t want anyone’s pity, especially yours.”

  “Good, because I’ve never given it to you, and I’m sure not going to start now.” She dug her nails into his shoulders. “Get on top of me, Luke, and push your cock into me. I want you to make love to me so hard the people in the next room will complain to the front desk about how loud I’m screaming.”

  She couldn’t mean it. She couldn’t want him with his permanent deformity. But he shifted toward her anyway, unable to resist the invitation and the challenge. As he pressed her shoulders into the mattress, satisfaction suffused her face.

  Her approval turned him so hot and, at the same time, made him want to wipe away her contentment and replace it with pure passion. Shifting above her, he hooked one arm under her knee and elevated her leg. Her lips slackened, and her breath hitched. He massaged the head of his cock along her opening, and the passion he longed to see returned in full force.

  “Yes.” She raised her hips for him.

  He hooked his other arm under her opposite leg, lifting her higher and spreading her wider. She tried to move her hips, but he’d taken away her leverage. She moaned, a sound caught between frustration and desperation.

  “You wanted me to take you,” he reminded her.

  “So, do it, please. I’m empty without you.”

  And he’d been empty since the moment he’d left her. He plunged in, filling them both.

  She gasped. “Luke, oh, Luke. More, please more.”

  He thrust, desperate to give her everything she wanted. She clutched his back while he plunged over and over, crying out with more desperation and greater need. Pure emotions played across her face—not an ounce of pity, only ecstasy, passion, and love.

  The truth was etched across her face. She loved him. She’d always loved him. Even though he’d cast her aside, her love hadn’t dimmed.

  Sure, after his injury, she’d sometimes looked at him with sympathy and concern, especially during those moments when he’d been suffering the most. But, most of the time, she’d delivered tough love. And above all, she delivered real love—everlasting love.

  He’d been stupid to throw away her acceptance and partnership. Although he couldn’t promise never to be stupid again, he’d never be idiotic enough to leave her again.

  Convulsing around him, she screamed her orgasm as promised. He kissed her, swallowing her cries, keeping her passion for himself alone. When her tremors subsided, he pulled back.

  She opened her eyes, confusion settling in their depths. “You haven’t—”

  Flooded with love, he kissed her lips gently. “I’ll get to it in a minute. Don’t move.”

  He stepped to the floor and hopped two steps to where his jeans hung over the desk chair.

  “Oh, a condom. I forgot.” She flopped on the pillow.

  He hadn’t even thought of protection, but raising a child he might not be able to keep up with, although still a scary prospect, no longer terrified him into pushing her away. Taking what he needed from the pocket, he returned to the bed.

  “Not a condom. If you want a baby, I’ll try twenty-four hours a day with you to make it happen. This is what I couldn’t make love to you without.” He held up the gold band that she’d returned to him a few hours ago.

  Rosie’s jaw gaped as she stared at it.

  Kneeling between her legs, he took her left hand from the mattress. “Give me a second chance to be your husband. I can’t promise I won’t still be an ass and make stupid decisions, but I’ll never leave you again. I do promise that I’ll love you forever.”

  Before she could say a word, he pressed an index finger to her lips, needing her to hear everything in his heart first. “Wherever you want to live—in your dorm room, this hotel, a house in the nearest town—I can live anywhere, as long as I’m with you. I’ll n
ever push you away again. Have your lawyers draw up a contract to strip me of everything I own if I hurt you. I’ll sign whatever you want. I’m yours, Rosie.”

  He slid the wedding band on her finger, where it fit every bit as perfectly as the first time he’d placed it there. Switching his gaze to her face, he focused on the tears glittering on her lashes.

  “Damn it, I promised I wouldn’t cry around you again, no matter what.”

  Before she could swipe at the tears, he caught her hand, and then kissed her tears as they escaped. “I’m hoping these are happy tears, but, either way, you don’t have to hide them from me.”

  “Very happy,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist until his cock lodged at her opening.

  “Can you tell me you love me again?” He knew it, but still needed to hear the words from her lips.

  “I love you, Luke, always and forever, my husband.” She took him in, body, heart, and soul, completing his life more permanently than any amputation could sever. “You are in for a hell of a lot more than one night with your wife.”

  Which was exactly what he wanted. “I’m all in. For a lifetime.”

  ~A Note from Sara~

  Dear Reader,

  Sometimes a story has to be yanked out by its teeth, and sometimes it just flows through my fingers onto the keyboard like it was meant to be from the beginning. Luke and Rosalind’s story was one of those special occasions when the story simply flowed from me, the characters taking on a life of their own and lodging themselves in my heart.

  One Night With His Wife is the sixth and final book in the One Night With the Bridal Party subseries. If you’ve been with me from the beginning, I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey and watching the storylines develop. If this is your first book in the series, welcome! The books in this series can be read in any order, and you’ll find special appearances by familiar characters along the way.

 

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