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He’s so deep. When he ups the pace and groans out my name, it reaches a part of me that sends me closer to the edge.

I meet his rhythm as words fall from my lips about needing him to fuck me harder and faster.

He gives me everything I want, and as I reach my climax, he stares into my eyes, revealing a part of him I never knew existed.

I watch him come undone at the same moment as I do. His lips part, and his control, all the control he always carries with him, is stripped away to reveal a man lost in his pleasure, lost completely and wholly to me.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Graham

There is something achingly poignant about this moment.

I’m in my bed with my wife.

She’s lost in thought as her fingers tease her right nipple.

I don’t know if she’s even aware of what she’s doing, but it’s slowly killing me inside.

She’s incredibly sensual and captivatingly beautiful in a way that has not only made me want her more than I have anyone I’ve ever met, but I’ve realized that I’ll never feel this way again.

How will another woman ever satisfy me?

It’s not about the orgasm, although that was well beyond the scope of anything I’ve felt before. It was intense, so intense that I thought I’d fucking cry at the emotions that shot through me as I came with her silken pussy wrapped around my cock.

I stare at Trina’s profile as she gazes toward the window.

Simply knowing what her favorite pizza is or her preferred flower doesn’t seem that important anymore.

I want to know what she sounds like when she comes on my tongue. I want to see her face when she first wakes in the morning, and I want to feel her breath on my cheek when I crawl into bed next to her every night and kiss her senseless before she drifts off in my arms.

“Are you asleep?” she whispers.

I drop my hand over hers to touch her plump nipple. “Wide awake, Mrs. Locke.”

She turns to glance at me. “I’m still Trina Shaw.”

Legally, but after tonight, she feels like my wife. I want her to be my wife. I don’t give a damn about her surname, but I want this – I want more moments like this with us tangled together with rings on our fingers that tell everyone and anyone that I belong to her.

“You are,” I agree as I pinch her nipple. “Trina Shaw.”

Her gaze drops to my lips. “That was fun.”

I inch a brow up. “The fuck was fun?”

“Very.” She nods. “It felt different than other times for me.”

I don’t want to dive into that pool. The thought of another man experiencing anything remotely close to this wants me to yank my hair out.

“It felt incredible,” I whisper. “You’re incredible.”

She turns to face me, giving me an unobstructed view of her body. “So are you.”

I inch my fingers over her stomach. “Are you hungry, Trina? Say no.”

A bubble of laughter falls from her swollen lips. “No.”

“I am.” I move quickly, pushing her legs apart with my shoulders. “I’ve wanted a taste of you for so long.”

Her hands drop to my hair, threading through the strands. “How long? Days?”

“Longer,” I say before I glide my tongue over her cleft for my first taste.

My cock hardens even more.

“Weeks?” she whispers through a drawn-out moan.

I part her with my tongue, seeking out her clit. “Longer.”

Her back bows when I circle it lightly before sucking it between my lips.

“Mon…months?” she stutters the word out.

I slide a finger inside her as I groan. “Since the day we met.”

Her reply is a whimper and a grind of her hips in the air.

I lose everything in that moment. Every thought is gone. Every sensation is focused on only one thing. That’s the sweet taste of my wife, and my driving need to make her come.

I wake to darkness and an empty spot in the bed next to me.

It takes me a moment to find my bearings.

I glance around, but I don’t spot Trina anywhere. A quick look in the direction of the open bathroom door tells me she’s left the room.

Panic darts through me.

I’m on my feet in a flash, pulling on my trousers. I zip them up, not bothering with a shirt, before I sprint out of the bedroom.

I stop as soon as I hear her laughter drift down the hallway.

Thank Christ she’s still here.

I rest a hand on the center of my chest to feel the pounding beat of my heart. It’s racing.

As it begins to slow, I head in the direction of her laughter.

When I finally catch sight of her, my heart starts thundering inside my chest again. This time it’s because of the sheer beauty of her.

Her hair is a tangled mess around her face. Her cheeks are blushed pink, and her bottom lip is swollen from the incessant bite of my teeth as I kissed her with a reckless need to be as close to her as I could.


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