I freed one leg and left the other trapped, my hands pushing her thighs open so I could see her. Her panties were skewed from pulling off her jeans, giving her just the look I wanted.
She was my wife. My most valuable possession; I treasured her. But I loved her slutty and dirty, too. A sexual object for my pleasure. The one woman who could silence the memories in my head and set me free.
“Angel.” I slid down, lying prone, my mouth watering for the taste of her.
“No,” she protested, her hands covering herself.
I pinned her wrists at her sides and glared. “I want you like this.”
I licked her through the silk and she arched with a whimper, her heels digging into the carpet and lifting her cunt to my mouth. I pulled her panties aside with my teeth and uncovered the impossibly soft skin. A rough sound left me, my dick hardening to the point of pain.
Wrapping my lips around her clit, I sucked her, licked her. Felt her tense up. I released her hands, knowing she was mine now, helpless to fight me.
“Oh God,” she breathed, writhing. “Your mouth . . .”
Spreading her wide with my shoulders, I tongued her, driving her to come. Her fingers pulled at my hair, tugging painfully at the roots, spurring me on until she cl**axed with a startled cry. I licked inside her, f**king her, feeling her quiver around my tongue. She grew slicker, hotter.
I rubbed against her cl*t and slid two fingers inside her, grinding my h*ps into the floor at the feel of her tight plushness. My c**k ached to sink into that snug heat, knowing how amazing it felt, craving the constriction.
“Please,” Eva begged, grinding into the thrust of my fingers, needing the slide of my dick to fill her.
I wanted to f**k. To come. Not because I needed sex, but because I needed her.
Her body twisted and tensed with another orgasm, her neck arching as she cried out.
Wiping my wet mouth on her inner thigh, I rose to my knees and shoved my sweats down. I placed one hand on the floor and used the other to aim my cock, levering over her and notching the throbbing head against her. I thrust hard, putting the weight of my body behind it, surging through the tight clasp with a groan.
“Christ.” I rubbed my sweat-slick forehead against her cheek, wanting her to smell like me. Her nails were in my back, digging in. I wanted them to mark me, scar me.
Cupping her ass, I lifted her, angled her, digging my feet into the carpet for the leverage I needed to push all the way in. Eva gasped and churned her hips, working to fit me.
“Take me,” I hissed through clenched teeth, fighting the need to come before she took all of my cock. “Let me in.”
Her cunt rippled, sucking at me. I pinned her shoulder to hold her still and thrust harder. She gave, letting me have her.
The feel of her clutching the entire length of my dick was all I needed. Wrapping myself around her, I held her against me, kissing her roughly, coming with a violence that left me trembling in her arms.
STEAM curled around us as I cradled Eva in the suite’s massive sunken tub. Her wet hair clung to my chest, her arms draped over mine where they hugged her waist.
“Hmm?” I pressed my lips to her temple.
“If we couldn’t be together—not that it would ever happen, just hypothetically—would you sleep with someone who looked like me? I mean, I know I’m not your usual type, but would you want to pretend with someone who reminded you of me?”
“I’m not going to speculate on situations that will never occur.”
“Gideon.” She leaned to the side, tilting her head back to look at me. “I get it. I tried to think if I would find any comfort in being with someone similar to you. Like maybe if it was dark and his hair was your length—”
My hold tightened. “Eva. Don’t tell me about fantasies of other men.”
“God. As usual, you’re not listening.”
“What the f**k is this about?” I knew, of course. But there were no avenues in the topic I wanted to explore.
“Brett’s sleeping with that girl from the ‘Golden’ video. The one who looks like me.”
“No one looks like you.”
She rolled her eyes.
“She may have your curves,” I conceded, “but she doesn’t sound like you. She doesn’t have your sense of humor, your wit. She doesn’t have your heart.”
I brushed wet fingertips over her brow. “Turning off the lights wouldn’t help me at all. A random, stacked blonde wouldn’t smell like you. She wouldn’t move the way you do. She wouldn’t touch me the same way, need me the same way.”
Her face softened and she pressed her cheek against my shoulder. “That’s what I thought, too. I couldn’t do it. And the moment I saw Brett with that girl, I knew that you wouldn’t do it, either.”
“Not with anyone. Ever.” I kissed the tip of her nose. “You’ve changed what sex means to me, Eva. I couldn’t go back. I wouldn’t even try.”
She shifted around to straddle me, sending water sloshing up and over the rim of the tub. I looked at her, taking in the slicked-back hair the color of wheat, the smudges left by her makeup, the sheen of water on her golden skin.
Her fingers massaged the nape of my neck. “My dad wants to pay for the wedding.”
“Does he now?”
She nodded. “I need you to be okay with that.”