“How long since you slept with someone?”
“A year.”
I stared at her, completely shocked. "You mean to tell me you haven’t been with anyone since before our first date?”
“No, I haven’t.”
Masculine pride washed through me, followed quickly by regret. I hadn’t even had a chance to get her off more than once before I’d fucked things up with her. But then again, neither had any other bloke.
“Becca,” I whispered, gently sliding my finger over her clit and making her sigh.
“Yes?”
“Will you let me make you feel good?”
She moaned, “God, yes. Fuck me.”
The sound of her pleasure had me twitching in my pants. I wanted to drag that sound from her, save it, and make it my fucking ringtone. I circled her clit gently, slowly tapping it, then began a careful slide between her lips until I found her hot, slick entrance.
“Can I? Can I go inside?”
She parted her thighs for me and nodded. When I sank one finger into her, she gripped my arm tight enough that I worried I’d hurt her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she whispered.“You just... you’re different than I thought you’d be.”
“Am I? How did you think I’d be?”
“Selfish. Focused on yourself. Rough. Aggressive. Everything an alpha male is supposed to be.”
“Well, lass, a true alpha protects what’s his, cares for her, makes sure she’s happy above all else. Tell me.” I pulled my finger out and began rhythmically rubbing her clit. “Are you happy? Are you satisfied?”
She began rocking her hips in time with my attention.
“How does that feel, Becca? Are you going to come?”
“Not yet.” Her arse rubbed against me and had my balls tight and aching. I needed her to come. I wasn’t going to last.
“Feels so good,” she whimpered. “You make me feel good.”
“Yes. Come on, baby. Use me and make yourself come.”
She began rocking those hips back and forth in earnest, and I just let her fuck herself on me. My lips found the shell of her ear and trailed down to the lobe, where I bit down gently, and that was all she needed.
She came with a hoarse cry, shattering violently, and everything in me was laced with pride for what I had just done for my wife. I gave her pleasure, and there was nothing more satisfying than that.
BECCA
Taylor wasn’t in bed when I woke up the next morning, even though it was bright and early. I hadn’t expected that after he’d been up so late the night before. Not to mention after he’d taken care of me the way he did, how he got me back to sleep...
I shivered thinking of it.
The house was quiet, sleepy, and even though it was large, I was easily able to remember my way to the kitchen. After having a cup of tea to wake myself up, I headed outside into the pale gray morning. The country air was clean, and the only sound was the chirp of birds and the rustle of the breeze through trees. The McCullough property was extensive, full of hills and trails. Great for exactly what I was doing. A long, contemplative walk.
I had a lot to think about. I had a lot to consider after the line we crossed last night, but part of me—a very dominant part—screamed that all I was doing was overthinking this. That it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things whether the two of us had sex. But then there was my heart, which had been broken once before. So badly I didn’t think I’d recover. That part begged for protection. Warned that the things Taylor made me feel were just as strong, if not stronger, than the ones that had broken me.
I followed the path as I explored. It took me away from the house and around the back, where I found a concrete pad. Letting my thoughts carry me away, I pictured a young Taylor skating, practicing, the spark of his future coming to life right there. It made me smile to think of his nephews and how wild they were. Was he like that? A freckle-faced, precocious wee lad?