“I don’t knock at the door of my wife to be,” he replies, loosening his tie as he walks slowly across the room.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he seems to grow to fill the entirety of the space between me and the door.
“The wedding is in two days time,” he says. “When was your last period?”
“What does that matter?”
“I need to know your fertile window.”
“How romantic.”
“When was it?”
I tell him and he does a quick mental calculation. “The best time will be the night of the wedding. It is like it is meant to be.”
But if we’re not going to do it until then, why is he taking off his tie?
Twenty-Five
Aurora
* * *
He smiles as he slides the tie off, tossing it aside.
“Are you getting undressed?” I ask stupidly as he starts unbuttoning his shirt.
“You agreed to marry me,” he says, tossing off his jacket and shirt in one movement, revealing that rippling chest to me once again. My pussy tingles at the sight, especially when he starts undoing his belt. “You can’t act all shy now.”
“Do I get any say in this?”
“You want me to leave?” he asks, leaning out and stroking the side of my face. My eyes go down to the waistband of his trousers. Low on his hips, almost revealing the part of him I remember only too well. My body burns with desire, taunting my attempts to hate him.
He leans down and kisses me as I’m about to protest. His tongue slips into my mouth at once, probing and exploring like he owns me. I hate the fact that I love his kisses as much as I love him being inside me.
“You liked this last time we were together,” he says, pulling away the blankets to reveal my body. He puts a hand straight between my legs. “Soaking wet,” he says. “I knew you would be.”
That smug smile makes me want to slap him but before I can express my anger he’s pushing my knees apart, burying his face in my pussy.
My anger vanishes, replaced by overwhelming lust. His tongue slides over my clit and it feels as good as it did last time. He flicks around in circular motions, one finger sliding gently into me.
My hips push onto him. I lose track of all the thoughts I’ve had today. How does he do that? Making me forget I came here to kill him? It’s like witchcraft.
I close my eyes, lying back and letting moans slip from my lips. I shift in place as he adds a second finger into me, rocking in a way that means I can’t last much longer. He’s curved his fingers inside me. They stroke in exactly the right spot as his tongue moves faster on my clit.
“Come for me,” he mutters, his voice a growl that seems to rumble through my whole body. “Come for me, Rory.”
It doesn’t take long. His tongue moves expertly, his fingers sliding at the same pace throughout, back and forth, in and out, his whole being engaged in bringing me to a climax. “Oh, shit,” I mutter, the words falling out of me. “I’m going to come.”
“Do it,” he snarls. “Come for me right now.”
It only takes a few more seconds. My body tenses up and then the dam bursts. I scream out loud, shaking in place as my orgasm tears through me, wave after wave of pleasure making it impossible to think of anything but how good this is.
His fingers slow down, easing out of me as the aftershocks are still wracking my soul. He kisses my pussy a final time, climbing up me, his cock hard through his pants.
“I won’t come in you until the right moment,” he says quietly, whispering in my ear. “I will make you want me. I will make you want this.”
“I already do,” I reply. I wish it wasn’t the case but it’s true. I want this. I want him. I want a baby with him.