My wife is having a serious pity party tonight but I can’t blame her. She’s been through some shit. Shit I should’ve protected her from. I failed her. I fucked up.
And that kills me.
“I won’t get tired of you.” I nuzzle the side of her head, my mouth at her ear. “Who else tolerates the Chevelle like you do?”
I run my lips down the length of her neck, noting the hitch in her breath when I hit a particular spot. The way she melts against me, tilting her head to the side to give me better access.
“How many girls have you fucked in the Chevelle?” she asks out of nowhere.
Everything within me stills, my mouth still pressed upon her skin. Slowly, carefully, I push her hair out of the way, pressing my forehead against the back of her head and taking a deep breath. “You really want to know?”
Her body stiffens and she leans her head down, as if she’s trying to get away from me. “Maybe?”
I rub her nipple with my thumb, wishing I could put my mouth on her. Taste her warm, wet skin. “The answer might blow your mind.”
She nudges against me, as if she’s trying to buck me off of her. “You’re rude.”
I clamp my arms around her middle so she can’t slip away from me. “It’s zero, Charlotte. I haven’t fucked anyone else in the Chevelle. Until you.”
My wife freezes, turning her head so she can meet my gaze. “You’re serious?”
“Why would I lie to you?” I drop a kiss on her lips, not wanting to push. She responds, leaning into me and I break away first, trying to keep my head. “There’s something here. Between us. You feel it too.”
Charlotte blinks at my honest response. “Do you want to know what I thought about when I was tied up in that room?”
My skin feels like it could burst into flames at her mentioning being tied up. Alone in an empty room, waiting for that McFuckface to come back and do whatever he wanted to her. She must’ve been so damn scared. “What?” I ask, my throat scratchy. “Doja?”
Her eyes fill with tears and a soft laugh leaves her. “You. If I was ever going to see you again. Feel your arms around me. See you smile. Hear your laughter.”
My chest aches at her confession. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
She turns so she’s facing forward once more, pressing up against me once again and I can sense the tension ease out of her once again. I rest my hands just below her breasts, my fingers stroking her silky smooth skin. “That won’t work, Perry. You have to go to work. Live your life.”
“You’ll come with me to Halcyon.”
“And what would I do there? Bring Doja? We could become the Halcyon mascots,” she suggests.
“No.” I shake my head. “Doja stays home with Jasper. You come to work with me. Or I could work from home. Winston will accuse me of jacking off all day, but fuck it. I’m not leaving you alone.”
Charlotte drifts her fingers across my forearms, her long nails making my skin tingle. “I love how protective you are.”
Doesn’t feel like I was protective enough, but I’m going to make up for it. Nothing will happen to this woman again. Not with me by her side.
“I protect what’s mine.” I slide my hand down her belly, until I’m cupping her pussy, noting the heat emanating from her. The wetness. And I’m not talking from the bath water either. “You belong to me. This pussy is fucking mine. Do you understand?”
She’s trembling, and I feel like an asshole. Did I scare her with the over-the-top possessiveness? The woman makes me feel like this. Like beating my chest and smashing that other jerk’s face in, all while grabbing Charlotte by the hair and grunting, “Mine.”
If I ever told her that, she’d probably kick me in the dick. And I’d probably deserve it.
She’s quiet for so long I have to say something.
“Charlotte—”
“I understand,” she says, interrupting me. She lifts her hips, causing my hand to sink deeper. Until my fingers are pushing between her folds. Her unspoken agreement urges me on and I stroke her. Softly at first.
Carefully.
“I was so scared,” she whispers as she throws her head back onto my shoulder, exposing her elegant neck. “I thought no one was going to save me.”