But my mind replays the words I've craved for years.I've wanted you since that party.Do you know how hard it was to push you away?
My core aches. I'm wet, hungry, and I can’t stop my fingers from moving across his chest, touching everything like I'll never have it again. His hot skin, soft hair, the ripples of his strong chest, I drag my fingers down each bump of muscle until I reach his boxers.
“Karley, touch me,” he commands.
“Only if you touch me too.”
His fingers skim the top of my thigh, lifting my t-shirt, and as his hand slips under my cotton thong, grazing the wet heat between my legs, I quiver.
As he sinks two fingers in, I have to really concentrate and push through the moan to touch him. My fingers slip beneath his waistband, touching his hard cock.
He groans before bringing his lips back to mine. The gentleness catches me off guard. This isn’t a calculated kiss like the chapel, but something raw that makes my legs weak and my walls begin to crumble.
I arch into his hand, craving more.
“So fucking wet,” he says.
“So hard,” I breathe.
“All for you.”
My eyes involuntarily roll back in my head and my legs wobble. I’m struggling to hold myself up as my orgasm builds. I grip his shoulders with one hand and stroke him with the other. He's growing thicker in my hands. I feel pre-cum on my fingers, so I use it to rub him.
He jerks in my hand. “Fuck, yes.”
His two fingers inside me move faster, rubbing along my front wall. I gasp for air as I almost beg for him to let me go when he says more words I’ve been dying to hear.
“Come for me,” he demands. “Give yourself to me. I’ll look after you.”
My back lifts as the orgasm washes over me, and I cry out, hearing him call me beautiful.
The next morning, after an eventful night of wet dreaming, my hand reaches out to the nightstand, where something catches my eye. A paper bag, a coffee cup, and a folded note. The coffee is still warm when I take a sip. Inside the bag is a bagel sandwich wrapped in foil. I unfold the note and can’t help but smile.
Brought you breakfast. Hubby xo
My cheeks warm at the signature.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of classes and avoiding Evelyn’s questions.
“You look different,”she kept saying, studying my face.“Something happened.”
I told her about the new living arrangements, the house, and cars. The subtle touches and long looks replayed in my mind all day. By afternoon, I’m exhausted from pretending they hadn’t shaken me.
Now back at Oliver’s, I open the cupboard and look inside to find something to make for dinner. I scrunch up my nose, disgusted as I pick up something that has the word “fermented” written on it.
The air shifts behind me, and I know it’s him before he speaks. “I don’t hide dead bodies in there.”
I snort, pulling back out of the cupboard to glance over my shoulder, spearing him with a look. My pulse quickens at the sight of him still in his work clothes. Dark pants, a white shirt buttoned down with the sleeves rolled up. “I’m not looking for your dirty secrets. I'm looking for food.”
He steps closer. I straighten, suddenly aware of how small the kitchen feels with him in it.
“There’re heaps of food.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Is that why you left me a store-bought breakfast bagel sandwich and a coffee?”
He opens and closes his mouth as his eyes dance with amusement.
“I’ll head to the store. Is there anything in particular you want for dinner?” I ask, smiling as I close the pantry door.
