Page 125 of Sinful King

I set her on the edge of the bed and got down to remove her boots.

“You always take such good care of me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Our eyes clashed and I gripped her thighs.

“When have you ever not deserved me taking care of you?”

I could tell she hadn’t meant to say it. That where this had come from was meant to stay locked away. I was grateful for the slip of tongue.

Every insecurity had to be pulled out by the root or this wouldn’t work.

“I… when I lost our baby.”

The confession broke my heart.

“Look at me, Amoy,” I coaxed softly, holding my tongue until she did just that. “I know that feeling won’t just disappear, but you are worthy. You’ve always been worthy. And I’ll keep doing this, taking care of you in every way imaginable, even after you finally understand and believe.”

She leaned forward, hands on my face, forehead to mine and murmured against my lips, “Thank you for saying that.”

I pulled her up, removed all her clothes and mine, led us to the bathroom and into the rising steam after cutting the shower on.

Slow and meticulously, I cleaned my wife from head to toe and she let me, eyes regarding my every move.

“Let me return the favor,” she murmured after I rinsed her down.

Blair washed me with gentle hands, like she was trying to convey something important, but we stayed silent until I had her beneath me in our bed not long after.

“Tell me what you need right now?” I asked, fingers slipping between her legs to gently stroke her clit.

“You. Make love to me, please.”

She wrapped herself around me, long limbs drawing me to her.

I slid inside, her heat exquisitely enveloping me.Fuck.She was so goddamn wet.

“Feel so good,” I breathed as she arched, lips parted as needy moans spilled from them.

Her nails bit into my back and I slowed, watching her face and the way it held every emotion I wanted her to feel. Loved. Cherished. Worthy.Mine.

“Yes,” she gasped as I pinned her arms above her head, kept her in place while I thrust deep and slow.

Her wet pussy pulled me in with each stroke, making me lose control and pace.

“Oisin,” she cried as I crashed into her, wild with the need to fill her body and soul.

I kept her pinned, one hand on her wrists, the other cupping her face.

“Tell me you love me,” I grunted, thrusting deeper, hips pounding her with urgency.

“I love you,” she whimpered, eyes filled with a hunger that called to me.

I let go of her wrists to cradle her head, balling my fist in her hair and pulling her mouth to mine.

“Again,” I demanded, unable to get enough of hearing it from her lips.

“I love you,” she cried when I freed her mouth, slick body arching and writhing. “I love you, I love you, I—”

I got my hand around her throat, squeezed gently, and felt her breath stall.

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