Page 89 of I Almost Do

She holds up a piece of paper, then places it on the coffee table. "The title of my car." Another paper. "Proof of car insurance." Another. "My health insurance. My quarterly taxes. My credit score."

She reaches for another piece of paper, and I stop her with a hand on her wrist. "Enough," I say, and I don't even know how she understands what I'm saying because my voice is so raw it feels like my vocal cords are shredded.

She lets go of the paper and swallows hard. "I don't need you, James. I can manage my own life just fine. But I want you. I love you so much I—"

I can't breathe. My eyes don't even know quite where to focus. "You're not leaving me."

It's not a question, but she answers anyway. “No. You said—youtoldme that as long as I needed you, you couldn't trust that I really wanted you. So, I was showing you—"

She's shaking, her wet eyes just on the verge of spilling over. Then she reaches out and punches me on the arm.

I laugh. It's watery, and giddy, and I know she can see the tears in my eyes, but for once in my life, I don’t care. I yank her into my arms. And I kiss my wife. I haven't touched her in six months. I thought I never would again. And suddenly she's here. And she's still mine. She will always be mine.

I kiss her like I want to be inside her, because I do.

She kisses me back with the same desperation, and she's pulling my hair, and I'm ripping at her shirt.

Then she leans back. Stops me with a hard hold on my hair. "James."

When I try to kiss her again, she holds me still.

When I make eye contact, she says, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes, that's a fucking yes. All those stupid things I said about you needing me… sweet girl, that was all on me. Every bit of it was just me rationalizing. You don't have to prove yourself to me. Not a damn thing."

And then my mouth is back on hers, and I'm smoothing her blouse over her shoulders and tossing it onto the floor. I undo the zip on her skirt and slide it down past her hips. She kicks it off, and she's shoving my jacket off me.

"Are you sure about letting someone else handle the trust fund?" she asks against my mouth.

"I have never been more sure of anything in my life," I say.

I lower her onto the sofa and follow her down. She tries to yank my shirt off, and we're both frustrated when we realize it won't come off over my hands because I forgot to release the cufflinks. I let her fuss with the left one while I use my right hand to hold her pretty little breast. I thumb her nipple through the lace. Then I suck right through the fabric. When that's not enough, I yank the cups down and groan as I feast.

She's done with the left sleeve, and now she's pulling on the right. I let her hold my arm captive while I work my way down her body, open mouth dragging down her belly. I stop to kiss the scar from her surgery. Then I'm pulling her panties down her legs, and for the first time, my mouth is on my wife's pussy. It only took two and a half years to get here. And it's everything.

She's everything.

34

River

Clarissa

James Mellinger is a god. I thought it the first time he kissed me, and I wasn't wrong. He eats my pussy like he's starving, and I'm the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. Never, in any of my frenzied imaginings, did I do justice to what James would do to me with his mouth.

He works me up that cliff so fast, it's ridiculous. If I were even capable of thinking at all, I suppose I'd be embarrassed at how quickly I go off. But I'm not embarrassed. I'm just coming and calling his name. My legs are shaking, and I'm clutching at his head. Then he's kissing my inner thighs, and he's sliding up my body. I reach for his belt buckle. And I feel the hot length of him in my hand.

Previously, I'd only touched James's cock directly that one time. I'd reached out with my thumb and swiped the bead of fluid from the tip to see what he tasted like.

Wrapping my fingers around his cock now is entirely different. He feels so solid, not a tease or a torment but everything I need. His cock is hot and silky, and when I pump my hand the way I remember James did to himself, the satin skin glides over a core of iron, flexing in my grip, so alive and real.

He groans, then holds my hand by my wrist. "Clarissa," he grits out against my ear, "that feels incredible, but if you keep it up, I'm going to come before I get inside you."

Just those words make my thighs clench together, the fever inside me rising again, burning me from the inside out.

There's a wild desperation bleeding from both of us. Neither of us has any patience. Neither of us can get close enough to the other.

I wrap one leg up and around him. "Now," I say.

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