Page 43 of Complete Me

She melted at the suggestion, the fight going out of her body. Apparently, I had been right to assume that my wife wanted to see me. We only made it to the private corridor that led to our bedroom before I lost my patience. I lowered Clara to her feet.

“Do you remember the first time you met my family?” I asked her.

She grimaced at the unpleasant memory. “I do.”

I caught her hips in my hands and began to slide the fabric of her skirt up to her waist. “Do you remember what happened after?”

“I remember that you gave me some excuses about your compulsions.” Fire danced in her blue eyes, and I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her. She responded with her body, pressing herself against me as I hooked my thumbs in her knickers and pushed them to the ground.

I couldn’t get enough of her. I never would. But, God help me, that wouldn’t stop me from trying. Pulling away, I lingered, my lips a breath away from her own. “I told you that some compulsions are healthy.”

“Not all of them,” she protested, even as she fought to get closer to me.

“This is,” I murmured. I dipped my hand between her legs, my fingers spreading her cunt. “Spread wider, poppet.”

There was no hesitation. We might need to work on our communication in other avenues, but sex was a language we spoke fluently. Clara responded to my touch as wantonly as the first time we met. I might never give her everything she needed, but I would try—and I would never fail where it came to her body.

“You can’t control me,” she whimpered, but she didn’t protest as I brought my free hand to her stomach and held her against the wall. If that’s what she thought this was about then I needed to clarify a few things.

“It’s not about control. Not this. Not now.” I trailed my lips along her ivory jaw, writing my promises in breath against her skin. “I’m compelled to give you pleasure. I’m willing to compromise everywhere else, but I will fuck you. I will make love to you. I will take you to the edge and hold you as you spill over. Ecstasy is what I demand of you. I can’t quiet my need to give it you. It is a healthy compulsion.”

Her response hitched in her throat, a strangled mewl of longing escaping past her lips. Finally, she managed two, small words. “Yes, please.”

I didn’t need her permission, and I wouldn’t ask for it. Not when it came to making her come. Watching Clara writhe with pleasure, helpless to resist, was my oxygen. The rest of my life was spent holding my breath until the next time I could gasp for air again. I could compromise on every other issue. I would strive to be the man she deserved and one that she could trust. She would be protected and respected in my arms. But she could never deny this need.

Trailing kisses up her naked thighs, I savored each one as I worshipped her body. I would give her my devotion just as I had given her my life. I slid my tongue slowly to the hollow between them, and her hands tangled in my hair. Her reaction took me back to that night in the hall. I had barely known her then, but I was already her captive. Drawing the tip of my tongue along the wet heat of her seam, I felt my cock twitch with impatience. He would have to wait, because I was exactly where I wanted to be.

“Let go, poppet,” I urged, her scent flooding my nostrils as I spoke. “I’m going to fuck you with my mouth. I need to taste you as you come.”

She inhaled sharply as if bracing herself, and I thrust my tongue inside her. I stroked hard only pausing on her delicious clit. Her fingers tightened their grip on my hair, and she began to shake. Wrapping my arms around her legs, I held her against me as I continued my assault. She didn’t hold back as she came, her arousal gushing against my mouth. When she tried to pull away, I didn’t let go. Instead, I idled there, brushing kisses along her trembling cunt.

Finally, she released my head, but she didn’t break away. “I need to feel you inside me.”

I was on my feet with her in my arms instantly. She sagged against me, her face tucked below my chin so that I could feel the soft heat of her breath. Kicking the door closed behind us, I lowered her to her feet. When she took a shaky step toward me, my arms were waiting to catch her. “Let me help you, poppet.”

She clung to me as I lifted her skirt up and drew her dress over her head. Abandoning it to the floor, I studied her body appreciatively. It wasn’t the same as when we first met, this body was more beautiful, softened by motherhood and ripened by cultivation. I brought my hands to her breasts and skimmed over them, pausing to flick her nipples. They hardened into two beads that I couldn’t resist. Slanting my head, I sucked a mouthful between my lips and Clara cried out. Moving to the other I couldn’t help but toy with her. “I could make you come like this with my tongue and my teeth.”

“I think you just proved that,” she complained through gritted teeth.

“I was willing to prove it again, but…” The back of my head was shoved closer, and I chuckled.

“More,” she demanded as I nipped the delicate furls.

I couldn’t wait any longer to fulfill her request. Cupping her ass, I lifted her so she could wrap her legs around my waist.

“Slowly,” I cautioned her as her sex nudged against the broad crown of my cock. It was as much a reminder to myself as it was to her. I had to fight the impulse to plunge inside her. Even after all this time, her entrance strained to accommodate me. She glided down my shaft, her cunt rippling against the engorged flesh. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more. I longed to be brutally deep inside my wife. Moving toward the bed, I lowered our bodies slowly, never breaking our union.

Clara brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes, and our gazes met. We stayed like that, seeing into one another’s souls, as I rocked myself fully inside her. Clara’s head tipped back and she struggled to maintain the visual contact as she began to unravel. It was the most beautiful vision in the world—her porcelain body quivering uncontrollably. She bit down on her lower lip, sobs pouring from her, as she came. Her cunt clamped against me, drawing forth my orgasm in punctuated spasms, until I emptied inside her.

I held her for a few minutes or a few hours, her body clutched to mine. We laid in silence, the only movement a brush of the fingers or a soft, fleeting kiss. When I finally withdrew, I watched mesmerized as my seed spilled from her swollen pink mound.

“Everything I am belongs to you,” I promised her in a whisper.

“Forever?” she asked, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“For always.”

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