She pressed a finger to her lips. “Shhh. Trust me.”
Rosie started to strip, right there in their kitchen, like a fucking goddess, backlit only by the weak kitchen bulb. Her T-shirt came off slowly and was dropped to the floor, leaving her braless, those aroused bronze-tipped tits making Dominic’s breath wheeze in and out of his mouth.
“Touch them. Play with them, you gorgeous little cock tease.”
“Soon . . .”
When she turned around and slowly peeled the yoga pants down her thighs, Dominic gripped himself through his sweatpants, massaging the stiffness, making it worse, with no way to stop.
“I know that thong,” he gritted out, watching her reveal the strip of red that ran through the center of her high ass cheeks. “I’ve tied you to the bedpost with it, ridden you with it wrapped around my fist, shoved it in your mouth to keep you quiet. I own it as much as you do, don’t I?”
Rosie kicked aside her pants and nodded, coming toward him in nothing but a red triangle of material between her legs. “That’s right,” she whispered, stepping between Dominic’s outstretched legs and giving him a slow, hypnotic kiss. His hands climbed over her hips and kneaded her tits, mouth swallowing her gasps. “You know how to own everything you’re touching,” she said, flickering her tongue against his. “But I want to own you right now.”
Dominic’s groan was full of pain, his right hand returning to squeeze the bulge between his thighs. “Tell me what I have to do to stop hurting.”
Keeping their mouths locked together, Rosie straddled Dominic’s legs and sat. His stance was so wide, however, it left her core spread open for him to see, the red thong stretching over her pussy, unable to cover all of it. Dominic had no choice but to yank down the waistband of his sweats and furiously jack himself off, the end already approaching. There was no other outcome with his sexy-as-hell wife 99 percent naked on his lap and purring at him like a seductress.
“Are we breaking the rules?” he managed through clenched teeth, his chest heaving. “Say yes, honey girl. Say yes and I’ll fill you full.”
Rosie shook her head, a secret smile curving her lips. And then her fingers slipped down between her spread thighs to massage the drenched flesh beneath her panties. “I’m already so close, just from kissing you,” she said unevenly. “Tell me when you’re close.”
Dominic threw back his head and roared at the ceiling. “Goddammit, I told you—”
“Inside me or nowhere at all.” Her body started to tremble, her nipples turning to tight peaks. She scooted closer on his lap, the points of her nipples sliding through the sweat on his chest. “Remember sophomore year of high school?” Rosie murmured brokenly at his lips. “All those times in your bedroom when we were supposed to be studying.”
“I haven’t forgotten a single second with you.”
Tenderness flashed in her eyes, before it was once again overrun with lust. “We’d only make it about fifteen minutes before you had my skirt off and you were rocking, grinding against me . . .”
Dominic groaned. “Are we still pretending you didn’t scoot your hips all over the bed until I could see your panties . . . all wet and tucked between those tight ass cheeks?”
“You caught me,” she breathed, her eyes closed, and the fingers between her thighs started to move faster, producing another bead of semen on Dominic’s cock.
He was losing it. Losing it. Hearing her reminisce about those sweaty afternoons was going to push him over the edge and there was nothing he could do about it. Fuck.
“We took it as far as we could without going all the way.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “And we finally decided just the tip didn’t count, didn’t we?”
Dominic lunged forward off the chair, dropping to his knees, carrying Rosie with him. No sooner had her back landed on the floor of their kitchen did Dominic nudge his wife’s panties to one side and sink the head of his erection inside her pussy. Not driving it the entire damn way made him crazed, but the tight pressure of her entrance around his tip was incredible. Perfect. His fist squeezed along his inches, top to bottom, jerking off into the warmth between Rosie’s thighs.
“Such a wet girl, aren’t you? Got soaked teasing me with those pretty legs spread, didn’t you?” The bottom of his spine twisted and he groaned, knowing the end was coming fast. Now. “Keep playing with your clit. Do it. Get off with me.”
“Yes,” she whimpered, two fingers busy rubbing that button of flesh.
His tongue wanted to play with it so bad, he was salivating, but that would break the rules, wouldn’t it? He didn’t have a clue anymore. Just knew he was going to die if he didn’t get relief.
“I’m coming, Dominic. Please. Yes.”
Dominic gripped himself hard, feeling the release in his balls, a trapdoor opening for him to fall through. He pushed his mouth up against his wife’s ear and spoke through gritted teeth. “Listen closely. If I can play ‘just the tip’ with your virgin pussy for a fucking year, I can play the long game to get my wife back. I’m getting you back. Don’t you think for a second that I won’t kill to make us right again.” He swallowed the rising emotion in his throat and let the orgasm break over him. “I love you.”
It was agony to say those words knowing he wasn’t getting them back. It ripped something open inside his chest, and he fell on the only anchor he’d ever known, kissing her neck while his body emptied of pressure. Rosie’s did the same, shaking beneath him, her hips and heels moving restlessly on the floor, seeking purchase.
Something was different this time. Something had changed.
He wasn’t exulting in the proof that he’d satisfied her. Maybe to a mild degree—he was a man, after all. Her thoughts weren’t a total mystery right now and he loved that. He looked into her eyes, that contact holding, and for that moment, there wasn’t a single mystery between them. Just honesty. They were in this struggle together.
The house. He needed to tell her about the house.
Dominic pressed a kiss to Rosie’s forehead and helped her sit up, unable to stop his hand from running over the curve of her shoulder, up the column of her neck to cup her cheek. “Hey. Tell me you don’t regret that.” He cleared his throat. “Please?”
Rosie shook her head. “I don’t regret it . . .”
She seemed as if she wanted to say more, but couldn’t. There was still too much holding her back.
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her about the house he’d bought them, but that hesitation on her part made him swallow the revelation down. Lock it back up.
The light in her eyes dimmed a little at his own hesitancy.
The timer on the stove went off.
As Rosie stood to take the empanadas out of the oven, Dominic’s head dropped forward on a curse. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d missed the buzzer-beater shot. She’d been right there in front of him, as vulnerable as he’d seen her in a long time, and he’d missed another chance to reach deep inside her mind. To grab on to their connection and twist his fist, strengthen it until they had no choice but to be together again. By the time he lifted his head, she’d put the empanadas on a cooling rack and started dressing herself. “So once they’re cool, you can—”
“I owe you a date,” he said, not wanting to hear the awkwardness in her tone. Wanting that conspiratorial tone back she’d had earlier when they were dancing. “I want to take you out on a date, Rosie.”
She smoothed her hands down the front of her T-shirt. “When?”
“Tomorrow night.” Dominic stood and pulled up his sweats, never taking his attention off of her. “I’ll pick you up at six.”
“I can do that.” Her hands met at her waist, fingers tangling. Finally, she dropped them and crossed to the door. “I’ll see you then.”
“Wait.” Dominic stayed her hand on the knob and waited until she met his eyes. “Thank you for all of this. The truck, dinner . . .”
“You’re welcome.” She glanced back at the kitchen. “It felt like going back in time.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she lifted onto her toes and laid a soft kiss on his mouth. “I missed you. I missed how we were. Just . . . stay with me, okay?”
He cradled the back of her head and kissed her hard. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Dominic stood at the door long after she’d gone, wishing he’d been honest about the house. Wishing she would have stayed. He had to be honest with himself first, though. And he knew those impulses to keep his feelings and insecurities to himself, those beliefs that providing for their small family should be done in silence . . . they had to be dealt with. Maintaining his stiff upper lip hadn’t worked. It was time to show Rosie that every single day of his life had been about giving her a dream he’d thought was most important to her. To them.
Right or wrong about that, tomorrow night he would bring her to the house.
Tomorrow he would lay it all on the line.
Rosie was nervous. For a date with her own husband.
There wasn’t a woman alive who could blame her, right? She’d known for a while that her husband was majorly hot. Some time and distance had really brought that fact home to roost, though. When she’d taken off his shirt in their kitchen, that feast of muscles and tattoos had almost made her cry happy tears.