With that question, his eyes quickly meet mine as he grabs my waist and tosses me onto the bed. He lowers himself onto me. Blanketing me. “I don’t know if I can handle more than one of you. I’m shooting for all boys.” I throw my head back and laugh as he straddles my waist. “Now, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this thing?”
I look down my body, seeing his hands physically tremble as they hover over my corset. “There’s ties in the back that…ahh!” I’m quickly flipped over on my stomach as his knees brace him on either side of my body. I feel the strings being loosened as I rest my head on my cheek, looking out at our loft.
Our loft. No longer mine. Every memory I make here will now contain my husband and the family we create.
“Thank you for what you did. I really love my wedding present.”
His lips press between my shoulder blades. Then lower, as my corset is loosened completely. Once my back is completely exposed, I’m flipped over so I can see him. He sits back on his knees between my legs, taking in the sight of me, and I see his chest shudder with his inhale. As if it’s the first breath he’s taken in hours.
“Are you okay?”
“It’ll always be like this with you.” His eyes hold mine with a gentleness I don’t remember ever seeing from him. And I want to ask him what he means, but I wait, because I know he’s going to give it to me. I see his throat roll with a swallow, his lips parting slightly as his eyes commit me to memory with the most profound look he’s ever given me. “After 323 days, I should know the effect you have on me. But I don’t. I’m never prepared for it. Every time I see you, it’s like I’m at that wedding all over again.”
The air leaves my lungs in a trembling rush, and I’m suddenly not concerned with breathing at all. Nothing gets to me like the words he chooses for me. And I know nothing ever will.
“How do you do that? How do you make me love you more than I ever dreamed possible?” I ask as the tears pool in my eyes. I reach my hand out, needing to feel him. Needing that constant contact now more than ever.
His hand touches mine and he laces our fingers together. “I should ask you that.”
I blink, sending the tears down the side of my face. He releases my hand and grabs my foot, resting my heel against his chest. One shoe is removed then the other. I watch him run his fingers up the inside of my leg along my stocking until he reaches the metal clips of my garter. And after his declaration to me seconds ago, I think this is going to be gentle. I think his next moves with be unhurried and tender.
Until I see the tremor in his hand as he brings it up to rake through his hair.
He pushes off the bed and starts ripping his clothes off, not giving a shit about buttons or zippers. He’s frantic, like a man deprived, watching me frozen on the bed.
Hungry.
Greedy.
He’s normally so controlled, so calculated with everything he does. Especially sex. His movements are precise. Well-orchestrated. Practiced. And I love that side of him. But when he’s chaotic like this, when he can’t seem to settle himself enough to remove clothing properly, when he appears human, faulted like the rest of us, this is the side of Reese which drives me insane.
“I don’t think I’ve ever needed to be inside you so badly before. I’m fucking shaking,” he pants as he drags his rigid cock up my leg. He puts a hand on each of my thighs, digs his fingers into my skin, and shreds my stockings away from my body. My garter and panties are removed, tossed off the bed and disregarded like everything else that isn’t him and me in this moment. His hands anchor into the skin of my hips as he lifts them off the mattress and, in the same motion, drives into me.
“Reese,” I cry out, digging my nails into his shoulders.
He pushes my knees against my chest, lunging so hard into me my teeth chatter. “You’re finally mine. I’ve waited so long for this.”
I nod through a moan, closing my eyes and silently chanting. Yes. Yes. Yes.
His hands massage my breasts as his thrusts become frenzied. Fingers pinch my nipples and my eyes flash open when I feel the slide of his tongue over one hardened peak.
I thread my fingers into his hair, fisting it when he bites down. “Oh, God,” I cry as he buries his face between my breasts.
“Say it, Dylan.” He lifts his head, capturing my mouth and stealing the words from me. “Beg me like you do.”