Page 72 of Protect my Heart

My wife. The way it rolls off his tongue. It sends a shiver down my spine. He grips my hips like he’s grounding himself. “I want to learn everything about you.” His eyes search mine, raw and open. “Show me… show me how to pleasure you.”

I pull back slightly, brushing hair from his face. “Then pay attention,” I whisper, kissing the corner of his jaw. Then down his throat. He shudders. “First rule—don’t rush. Take your time.”

“I’m all yours,” he breathes, closing his eyes.

I trail kisses down his chest. My fingers tease the waistband of his boxers. He’s already hard, and when I slide them down, his breath hitches. I look up at him, and he’s watching me like I’m the center of his world.

"Do you like seeing me in control?” I ask, and I take him in my hand, slow and steady.

He swallows hard. “Yes, I like… when you’re in control,” he admits, voice hoarse.

Something about hearing that from him, the man who’s always calm and collected—it lights a fire in me.

I let my tongue flick over him just once, and he groans, his hands tangled in my hair. I pull back and smirk. “Not yet.”

I reach for the condom from the nightstand and tear the wrapper with my teeth. The first time I saw it there, I was astonished and maybe borderline terrified, but soon I burst into laughter, thinking we will never use it, but guess we're all wrong sometimes. “Safety first.” I roll it on him slowly, deliberately, watching him bite his lip. “You’re so hard for me.”

His voice breaks. “Do you like that? Like being in control?”

I meet his eyes, heat rushing through me. “Yeah,” I whisper.

“Tonight is yours… I want it to be about you.” He grabs my face and kisses me like he’s starving. I kiss him back, deeper. His hands wander my body like he’s memorizing me. But I guide him down and push him back against the pillows.

I straddle him again, breathless. “Then let me show you.”

I lower myself onto him, slowly, inch by inch. He gasps—his hands clenching the sheets, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Anika,” he whispers, voice wrecked. “You feel… amazing.”

I lean in, our foreheads touching, noses brushing, and breath mingling. “Move with me,” I whisper. I begin to ride him, slow and deliberate. The friction pulls a moan from deep in my throat.

His hand roams up my back, gripping tight, as he sucks on my breasts. I pick up the pace, his name falling from my lips again and again.

“Faster,” I pant, needing more.

He shakes his head, barely able to breathe. “Don’t rush me, wife. I want to feel every second of this with you.”

His voice—God. It’s not a line. It’s a promise. I laugh, breathless. “Husband, you’re killing me.”

He laughs too, but it ends in a groan as I grind down harder. My body’s humming, nerves sparking.

“Do you like that?” I tease. “Like being under me?”

“Yes,” he gasps. “God, yes. You’re… you’re perfect.” He says, pinching my nipple, drawing a gasp out of me.

I kiss him, hungry and deep, then let him flip us. His strength surprises me, but the way he looks down at me—like I’m something sacred—makes my chest ache.

“My turn,” he whispers, lips grazing my neck. “Tell me what you like.”

“I like it gentle,” I admit, voice catching. “But… I like it rough, too.”

His grin is all mischief. “Rough it is.”

He thrusts deeper, harder. I cry out, clinging to him as the rhythm builds faster. The sound of skin against skin, the creak of the bed, our breathless gasps—they fill the room.

“Aarav,” I moan. “Faster.”

He leans in, forehead pressed to mine, his body trembling. “Let me take my time. I want to make this unforgettable.”