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When she glances at me over her shoulder, something in her eyes touches me deeply. This is the most intimate we’ve been in over six months. I smile reassuringly—I might be a jerk, but I want her to feel safe. She smiles back, and the warmth that spreads inside me has nothing to do with sex.
“Well?” she says cheekily, emboldened once more. “Are you just going to stare at my ass, or are you going to fuck me?”
I love the challenge in her voice almost as much as I love her jitters. I slap her ass with a sharp crack, and she shrieks.
Then I pounce, grabbing hold of her hips and driving my cock straight inside her. She yells, obviously not expecting the sudden invasion. “Does that answer your question?” I snap back, slamming into her so hard she flies a foot up the bed. Her pussy is still wet, still so tight from her orgasm. It’s like fucking velvet and honey, and my cock can’t get enough.
I slide my hand around to her clit and gently rub it in little circular motions. “No, Elijah, I can’t…” she protests.
“You can and you will. I promise, baby.”
I nail her as hard as I can. I’m not going to last long myself. My cock is ready to explode, and feeling her ripple around me as I play with her isn’t helping. I curve my body around hers, kiss her neck, nip her shoulders, driving into her faster and harder. My fingers slide and stroke through her wetness, and she takes in a big desperate breath and cries out my name as she comes again. Her head is turned to one side, pink cheek flat on the pillow, plump lips parted. I watch her closed eyelids flutter in ecstasy, her caramel hair flowing over the sheets as she shakes and shudders. It’s all I need. Fuck! With one last driving thrust, I finally let go. My climax is so powerful I feel like I might black out, and she’s not the only one shaking now. I keep hold of her hips, empty every last drop inside her, then finally fall at her side on the bed.
We’re both slick with sweat, in various stages of comedown from that mind-blowing sex. I wish we could stay like this forever. My hand creeps along the sheets, and I nudge her little finger with mine. She nudges back, then rolls onto her side to look me in the eyes. Fuck, she really is something. Still-dilated pupils in her whiskey-brown eyes, hair stuck in damp strands to her flushed skin. A small smile on her lips. I stroke back the hair and run my palm over her cheekbone. “What happens now?” I say, then curse myself for it. I’ve broken the spell.
She kisses me once, softly, and gets to her feet. The bed feels empty without her. I feel empty without her. I don’t want her to leave, but I don’t feel like I can ask her to stay. Maybe that was one last bang for the road. A farewell fuck for old times’ sake. Keeping my expression neutral, I watch her retrieve her scattered clothes and put her dress back on. She runs her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tidy it, but it doesn’t help much.
She props one hand on her hip. “Do I look like a woman who’s just been fucked?”
“Yep,” I reply, smirking. “One hundred percent. People will probably point at you on the street.”
“Ha! Let them. I don’t give a damn.” She looks down, then back at me. “Well, this was… interesting. Actually, it was kind of amazing. But it can’t happen again—you know that, don’t you? Wecan’tlet this happen again. I’m not in the market for an… affair? Is that the right word?”
“I suppose it is,” I say, stretching my arms over my head. I see her staring, her eyes running over my body and lingering on my abs.
As though trying to clear her thoughts, she shakes her head, then slips on her shoes and forces a benign smile. “Whatever it was, like I said, it can’t happen again.”
“Worried your husband might find out?”
She gives me a wicked grin. “No. I love my husband, but he wouldn’t even notice I was having an affair unless his assistant sent him a memo about it.”
I raise an eyebrow and grin right back, but I’m gutted by the truth in her words. “He sounds like an asshole.”
Her face softens. “Oh, he has his moments.”
“Goodbye, Amber.”
She gives me a tiny wave. “Bye, Elijah.”
As I watch her beautiful ass swaying like a pendulum as she walks out of the bedroom and listen to the door close behind her seconds later, I am certain of one thing: This will definitely be happening again.
ChapterFourteen
AMBER
Isink down onto the sofa, clutching my mug of chamomile tea, still wearing a stupid, post-orgasmic smile on my face despite having showered and changed into my pajamas since I got home an hour ago. But it has been a long time since I had sex of any kind. And I haven’t had sex that good in… Well, now that I come to think of it, forever.
Elijah and I always had a powerful physical connection, and in our early years together, there were no issues at all in that department. We began to lose our way when the fertility problems started. Sex became scheduled rather than spontaneous. Then, when the doctors told me I wouldn’t get pregnant no matter how much sex we had, something inside me died. I struggled to readjust. If I couldn’t have a baby, why was I having sex? Flawed logic, but I was a mess at the time.
Verona’s illness came too soon after, and I couldn’t bear the thought of burdening him further with my neediness. I thought I was being kind, doing him a favor by suppressing my own needs in favor of his. Instead, I was contributing to the slow decline of our marriage.
Later still, years after Verona’s death, after Elijah and I had grown further apart, sex became something else entirely. Our conflicts were usually ice rather than fire, but every now and then, a fight would end with us fucking. It would be quick, desperate, and hot—and yet another way to hurt each other. It was like competitive fucking, both of us ferocious and full of fury. No matter how satisfying it was in the moment, it left me feeling hollow afterward.
Tonight, though… Wow. Tonight was something else entirely. Elijah has always been dominant in bed, and frankly, I’ve always liked it. But tonight was next level. It was so far out of our usual comfort zone, but I loved every damn second of it. I know I should feel like it’s wrong, but it sure didn’t feel wrong. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my entire life.
And while the sex was spectacular, there were also moments of genuine tenderness. The way he smiled at me when he knew I was feeling uneasy, the way our fingers touched afterward. Despite everything, he’s still the only man who has ever made me feel so safe and secure.
I was certain that the divorce made sense for both of us, but now I’m not as sure as I was. Can our marriage really be completely over when such a strong spark remains between us?