Page 17 of The Rejected Wife

I gasp. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth, sweeps it over my teeth, and my stomach bottoms out. My thighs tremble. My pussy clenches. I writhe, trying to get closer to him.

A growl rumbles up his chest. He leans more of his weight, so I have to stop moving. I stay held in position by his weight, and once again, the fact that I can’t move and that he’s in complete control of my body is such a turn on.

He holds my gaze and grinds his big, solid arousal into my aching core. I groan and shudder. Sweat breaks out on my forehead. His gaze grows more intense, and he begins to dry fuck me. Through our clothes, he thrusts up and against me.

That massive column in his pants gives me the friction I need. Quivers of pleasure begin to build inside me. My entire body begins to vibrate. He keeps going, gathers speed, making sure to hit my swollen clit with that ridge. That weakness in my knees spreads up my thighs, and centers in my core.

"Oh, my God," I huff.

He thrusts up against me again, and the jolt of pleasure that shoots through my veins makes my brain cells spark. "Tyler," I cry out.

"I fucking love it when you call out for me."

10

Tyler

"Mine," I growl. "You’re mine, baby. Mine to own. Mine to please. Mine to hold and cherish. Mine to possess. Mine to make love to all night long."

"Tyler," she says between gasps.

And hearing my name from her lips again causes goosebumps to crawl over my skin. My breath catches. My cock threatens to claw its way out through the crotch of my pants, and I grind it into that honeyed place between her legs so she can understand exactly how much it affects me.

"Sweet girl, you have a way of surprising me that makes me your slave."

I take in the flash of intelligence in her gaze, the blown pupils which tell me how aroused she is, the rosy tint which colors her cheeks, the rise and fall of those gorgeous tits, which invite me to suck on her nipples. Her body has been calling to mine in a way I can’t resist.

"You’re mine, baby, you hear me. Mine. Now come for me, Cilla. Right now."

Her body arches. She cries out as she climaxes. I continue to grind up against her as the aftershocks ripple through her. When she slumps, I gather her up in my arms and turn on my side with her. I keep my thigh between her legs to keep the slight pressure there, knowing that’s going to heighten her pleasure. For a few seconds, I stay with my woman in my arms. Holding her. Luxuriating in the soft give of her curves against my body. I run my fingers up her arm to her biceps, then back down to her wrist.

She shivers. "Tyler." The husky tone of her voice brings a satisfied curve to my lips.

"Yes, baby?"

She looks up again. "You still haven’t come." To illustrate her point, she brings up her thigh until it rubs against the swollen tent at my crotch. Vibrations of shock race out from the point of contact. My cock lengthens further.Fuck, at this rate, I’m going to come in my pants.My balls are so swollen, I swear, they feel as heavy as mortar rounds. She begins to saw her thigh against the heavy column in my pants. My brain cells seem to ignite.

"Jesus, woman, you’re killing me."

Her lips curve in a sassy smile. She slides in and rocks her thigh against my bulging penis. I groan. I tighten my hold about her, throw my head back, and grit my teeth.I can’t come; not yet. Not until I’ve made her climax again. Her pleasure. Her satisfaction. Her gratification. That’s what matters most.

I draw on my reserves of strength and patience from deep inside. From the same place I turned to when I was on a mission and needed to find my focus. Only, what I felt serving my country seems secondary to this incredibly huge need inside me to serve my woman.

I block out my own craving and, with what feels like my final ounce of self-control, I sit up with her in my arms. All those years of training finally paid off—judging by the way she tenses in surprise when I pull it off without even loosening my hold on her.

"Wow, you’re so strong." The words leave her mouth, and she makes a face. "Why does that sound so…cringe?"

I chuckle. "You’re not wrong. A hundred push-ups per day will do that to you."

"A hundred?" She shakes her head. "I can barely manage five."

"We can train together. I’ll show you how to grow your endurance."

"Not sure I’d look forward to that." She scowls.

When I chuckle, she rolls her eyes. "You were kidding, weren’t you?"

"I was trying to distract you. Raise your arms."

---