Spencer cut me off by grabbing my hips, thrusting them down hard over his dick, and growling into the crook of my neck, "Take your clothes off."
A grin split my features, and I obeyed, straightening and lifting my sweatshirt over my head. Spencer had dressed me in enormous sweats two nights ago when he'd saved me, and that was all I'd had to wear home. It left me topless on his lap, and Spencer sighed, pulling me up against him and burying his face between my tits. "I want to die here."
"You look like you're trying to smother yourself. Don't take yourself too literally." I ran my hands through his long hair while he kissed my breastbone. Then he moved to one nipple, and with a tender nip, he set my nerves alight.
"Worth it," he moaned with my nipple in his mouth. He sucked, and I gasped, my head falling back and my hair tickling between my shoulder blades.
"Ca-careful with your arm," I gasped.
He tightened his hold around me again, moving to the other nipple and licking it in a merciless circle. My pussy tightened, and I felt the moisture gathering at my core already. He licked my nipple until my breathing picked up, and I felt like an ember had been embedded in my chest. When Spencer lifted his head, his eyes were glazed with desire, and I felt his cock twitch through the thick layers of our sweatpants. He kissed my jaw, my chin, and then my lips with scorching intensity that took away whatever was left of the oxygen in my lungs.
I clung to him, riding the ridge of his erection, and he met me thrust for thrust, sliding the hard length over my tender clit. I gasped, increasing the pace, and he helped me, pressing hard and rubbing his cock over the sensitive spot just right. My sweatpants were soaked, and with no panties to act as a barrier, I was making twin wet spots on both our pants.
Spencer growled in frustration, and with a swift MMA move, he had me on my back. He crouched over me, breathing soft kisses down my body to my breasts again. I wiggled out of my sweatpants, and he helped me, his strong hands tugging them down my legs and then discarding them as he kissed a path down my stomach. I fumbled with his pants, and he helped me but then hesitated. He lifted his head and caught my gaze. "I don't have condoms."
I lifted my arm to show him the little scar from my birth control implant. "Fuck away, Doc."
"Fuck yes," he breathed, shucking off his pants and lowering his mouth to my pelvis. He nipped just above my slit, his hands bracketing my hips and his tongue darting out to tease the apex. I jerked, involuntarily lifting my hips for him.
My pussy ached, empty and wanting, and after riding his dick already, I wasn't sure I was going to last much longer. I tangled my hands in his hair, pulling until he was forced to glance up at me again. I shook my head. "I want you inside of me, Spence. Please. I want to feel you."
I didn't have to ask twice. Spencer lifted himself, returning to my mouth with a slow, scorching trail of kisses. When he fitted his mouth to mine, his knee nudged mine apart. I moaned into our kiss, and he reached between us, sliding his fingers through my arousal. "Jesus, Bee," he muttered against my mouth. He looked down at his fingers as they swirled around my clit and over my labia. "You're soaked."
"You sure?" I huffed. "You should check it with your dick."
He laughed, pinched my clit, and hooked me with a hard stare. "You'll take exactly what I give you, Dr. Mrs. Spencer. Open wider."
I obeyed with a little whine of protest, and he dipped two fingers inside of me carefully. My eyes fell closed as sparks exploded behind my lids, and he moved slowly, hooking hisfingers until he found a bundle of nerves that caused me to gasp and buck. "Oh dear," he chuckled, sucking on my neck so hard, it almost distracted me from the riotous, leg-shaking ache he was stroking inside of me. "There's no hope for you now."
"Spencer," I moaned.
He pumped his fingers a little faster, pausing to sweep my G-spot and push me straight for a mind-bending orgasm that I knew was going to tear through me mercilessly. When his thumb found my clit, I cried out, bucking and tensing. But then his fingers were gone, and he was kissing me deeply, positioning his cock at my entrance and making me dizzy with his tongue and lips. As he entered me slowly, he pulled away from the kiss, breathing hard. "I know you said no eye contact—"
"Look at me," I begged. I wanted to see it. That love he said had always been there, the one I had been completely blind to. I wanted to see it in his eyes while he claimed me.
Spencer pulled away just enough to catch my searching gaze. Then he sank into me, his features steady but his breath shuddering. And I saw him. I finally saw him clearly for the first time—the adoration, the desperation, the longing. It was all there for me to take in, and I could scarcely absorb the enormity of who Spencer was and how deeply he felt.
And then he was making love to me. It wasn't just fucking or finding satisfaction in the way our bodies sang together but a whole symphony of desires realized. The way he filled me and retreated, the way he sank into a heated kiss and whispered encouragements against my skin—all of it mended wounds and settled in my heart with comforting pressure. This man loved me. He loved me so much, he had given everything he had to prove it.
I was determined to pay him back with a lifetime of devotion.
Spencer reached between us again, swirling his fingers over my sensitive clit, but I was already there. My heart was alreadyoverflowing with love and acceptance and desire, and as soon as he quickened his pace and applied smooth pressure to my center, I crested and then broke into waves of satiating relief. Dimly, I knew he found his release too, slowing and then pushing deep inside of me, but I was lost to the delirious perfection of my muscles contracting around him and then melting into sated contentment.
Spencer gathered me in his arms, wedging his big body against the couch and pressing me against him on my side. I let my damp temple rest against his chest, and he peppered me with kisses. "You are so beautiful," he murmured.
I snuggled deeper into his arms, hardly believing any of this was real. "Are you okay?" I panted. "How is your arm?"
"Which one?" he retorted wryly. I started to rise up in alarm, but he pressed me back down. "It's fine. Just rest. I want to hold you."
"But it's my turn to order you around and make you drink water and eat soup."
"Listen, I worked hard to win over my wife. I'm going to enjoy it." His voice was groggy, and I remembered that he had been pumped full of all kinds of pain meds, and he was likely exhausted.
"I mean… I guess we could just… stay married?" I ventured to ask. What an odd way to propose to somebody. Was it even proposing, though?
"Oh yes," he demurred, closing his eyes and sighing. "We must. There really wasnoway I could have gotten around it with my savvy legal team and the bomb I planted in that stupid contract."
I lifted my head, my brow creasing. "Wait, what?"
