Page 80 of Love Wells Kept

I drag my fingers across the skin right above her pubic bone, letting the barely noticeable movement of her hips guide my touch. If she wants it, I’ll give her anything. If she doesn’t, I’ll wait patiently. Continue biding my time with jacking off in her underwear, with her body wash, to a Polaroid of us I found in her nightstand—lately I’ve had the sexual drive of a man in his early twenties, instead of late thirties.

Her neck twists so that she’s looking at me in her periphery. “My period.”

“I know,” I softly reply. “If you don’t want me to touch you, that’s okay.”

“What happened to waiting until you love me?” Her breath stops as the last word slips from her lips.

I’m falling for my wife so hard and fast, it’s breathtaking.

I kiss the goosebumps along the back of her neck. “No need to wait anymore, Kit.”

She shifts the tiniest amount, no more than an inch or so toward her back, so she can kiss me. The move also forces my fingers even lower. A nervous inkling that I won’t know how to make her happy in this way anymore, since I don’t remember anything about what she likes, dissipates the second Kate’s fingers interlace mine.

“You’re sure?” There’s clear nervousness in her voice.

The blood racing through my veins is hot. Invigorated.

“So fucking sure. I’m dying to touch you.”

“You…you used to do this for me when I had bad cramps. An orgasm usually helps.”

The thought of taking some of her pain away is all the motivation I need. I shut my eyes, nuzzling into her hair and pretending this is one of the many daydreams I’ve had that lead to me coming in a stolen pair of her panties. I’m such a damn Casanova in my imagination, versus the ball of nerves I am now.

“Show me how I used to make you come, Kit.”

Kate trails my fingertips over the neatly trimmed hair and presses my middle finger to her clit. The silky creases of her pussy hug my fingertip, and if it weren’t for the fact that I jerked off in the shower less than an hour ago, merely touching her would make me come.

Moving our fingers in slow, meandering loops, she teaches me how she likes to be touched. Light pressure, small eights. Her hips lift to meet our hands, and I groan into her hair. It’s a fucking sin that I can’t see what she looks like, yet I can feel her. And she feels So. Fucking. Good.

Kate pulls our hands from her underwear, letting the elastic snap back into place. I gulp, wondering if I’ve already done something wrong. But Kate glides my hand up between her breasts, and suddenly she’s taking my middle and index fingers into her mouth. Her cheeks hollow out with a hard suck that would bring me to my damn knees, if I wasn’t lying down.

I’m throbbing. Burning up. My cock’s stiff as a board, rubbing raw against the zipper of my jeans.

After my fingers are thoroughly soaked with her spit, she licks her lips. “Make me come, handsome.” Her voice is breathy and sexy as hell.

No fucking pressure.

Left to my own devices, I take my time. I stroke the velvet hair there, trace the edges of her pussy lips, stipple my fingers along the crease of her thighs. I explore the gorgeous woman in front of me, imagining how beautiful her pussy looks, considering it feels this damn good.

Once she’s writhing with need and whining small pleas to be touched, I find her clit again, circling with a featherlight pressure. After all, my only concern today is making sure she feels good. I’ll make damn sure we have time for everything else once she’s feeling better.

“Next time, I’m doing this with my tongue,” I murmur against the curve of her ear.

Fingers drifting across her pussy, I squint to make out her facial expressions in the dark. Switching up my technique, relying on the muscle memory I’d previously condemned, until she’s squirming and panting and squeezing her eyes shut. She whimpers, hands fisting the sheets on either side of her.

“Oh my fucking God.” Kate’s entire body tenses all at once, back bowing off the bed.

That’s the spot.

“You like that?” I ask with an arrogant smile and a self-satisfied lilt to my voice. “Let me hear you come. I need to know if the way I’ve been picturing you is a memory or my imagination.”

Kate kisses me—no, she devours me. Her teeth clash against my bottom lip, and she sucks it into her mouth. Our tongues frantically explore one another in time with the steady rhythm of my fingers on her swollen, wet clit. I lick the moan from Kate’s hot mouth, feeling it travel down to pulse in my cock.

Pressing her head into the pillows, Kate’s nails practically embed into the flesh on my forearm, and she bites down on her lip as an orgasm makes her twist in my arms. Every muscle contracting and relaxing in one fell swoop. And as my fingers slow to a gentle pet, she exhales through a sated smile.

Only a few memories have pebbled back into place since the accident, and I’m so fucking glad the honeyed sound of her coming undone hasn’t been a figment of my imagination.

My nose presses to her hair, and I kiss the skin behind her ear as she comes down. I run my wet finger along the seams of her panties to fix the crooked fabric, then settle my hand back over her lower stomach. “That’s a good girl. Feel better now?”