Page 135 of Crossed

My everything.

“Cade,” she moans, her fingers ripping the roots of my hair. It makes my cock throb with a drop of cum, aching to feel more of the pain only she can provide.

My tongue laps at her, from the top of her pussy down until I’m circling her entrance, the musky taste of her arousal making me drunk with need.

She pushes her hips farther into me, grinding her clit against my face, and I move back up, sucking it into my mouth and rubbing my tongue flat against the bundle of nerves.

Her legs start to shake, and I move from where I’m holding her down and grip the undersides of her thighs, lifting her up until her knees are over my shoulders and her ass is resting in my hands, making her cunt open up even more for me.

I feast on her. I could suffocate myself in her and it would never be enough.

And then she’s coming,hardaround my tongue, and I’m moving before she can think another word, dropping my pants to the ground and lining my thick shaft up to her hole, her legs wrapping around my waist, before I spear her apart with one single thrust.

Our hips collide, a sharp smack ringing out into the air around us, and my eyes roll back from how absolutely perfect she feels gripping me like a vice. She’s still coming, her cunt squeezing and releasing in a torturous rhythm, making my sack draw up before I can think twice.

“You feel so perfect, mon trésor, coming around my dick like my filthy little sinner.”

Her head falls back, perspiration lining her face, the blood splotches from the man she killed earlier making her seem like a fallen angel sent to earth just for me.

Groaning, I fuck up into her, over and over until she’s screaming out my name again, her nails digging into the scars on my back, even through the fabric, until I feel them bleed.

That shot of pain is all it takes and I’m undone.

Blinding, blistering, all-consuming.

White light dances in front of my eyes as pleasure rushes through me, and I swear that I’ve never felt closer to God than I do when I’m inside my wife.

Our hearts dance together, our chests pressing against one another as we come down from the high and catch our breath.

This is us at its core.

Wild.

Untamed.

Invincible and brutal in every single way.

I fuck her two more times before we clean ourselves thoroughly in the shower and then head to the living room of the cabin where I make us homemade hot chocolate.

It’s tradition.

I heat up the milk, the gas stove ticking as it catches fire, and smile when Amaya walks up behind me with the hammer, her green eyes sparkling like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

We work together without speaking, just enjoying each other’s company in the silence, and it isn’t until we’re curled up on the couch in front of the crackling fireplace that she hums as she takes her first sip.

“So what now, husband of mine?”

My heart clenches in my chest and I set down my mug, moving toward her and pressing my lips against hers softly. “I do love it when you call me that.”

She smirks. “You just love that I’m yours in every way now.”

My fingers ghost along her cheek, moving back until I’m fisting her curls in my hand. “You’vealwaysbeen mine.”

“You know, Monsieur Frédéric, I think you’re right about that.”

Slowly, I move her own cup of chocolate from her hands, placing it on the coffee table.

And then I show her just how much shetrulybelongs to me. The same way I belong to her.