Page 39 of Tainted Tempos

“Oh, God,” I exclaim, clenching the fabric of the comforter in my hand.

Maverick’s hands grip my inner thighs as he begins to lick, nip, and suck my clit. He applies varying degrees of pressure, and I can literally feel my want for him drip down before he laps it up.

“Fuck, you’re sweet,” he moans.

“Maverick,” I pant.

“Tell me what you want, beauty.”

“You,” I admit. “Always you.”

I can hear the smile in his voice as he replies, “Want to make you come for me first.”

And then, his tongue is back, two of his fingers are dipping inside of me, and I’m climbing higher and higher toward a peak I’ve never crested before.

I break apart wildly, my body seeming to come undone at the seams.

“Maverick,” I gasp, as my body shudders.

“Fuck, Mckenna,” Mav whispers, kissing my inner thigh. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

“I need you, Mav.” I reach for him.

He sated the throb between my legs but there’s still an emptiness gnawing to be filled. And I want him to fill it.

He slides back up my frame, one hand cupping my cheek as he peers directly into my eyes. “Are you sure about this?”

“You’re my husband, Maverick. And I love you,” I tell him seriously. “Please.”

“Fuck.” The most beautiful expression I’ve ever witnessed crosses his face. It’s like the blossoming of a flower, the first rays of daybreak, and the purity of snowfall all rolled into one. “I love you, Mckenna. I love you so fucking much.” He dips down to kiss me. Then, he loses his bathing suit and the length of his cock, so fucking hard, springs free. Before I can comment on the size of him, or wonder how he’s going to fit, he positions himself at my entrance and slides home, both of us crying out with pleasure. He holds himself still for a beat. “You good, baby?”

“Yes.” I flatten my palms against his back, wanting to feel as much of his body as possible.

Already, my body is tightening, my want growing, my need climbing.

Maverick begins to move, and the pace is delicious. He keeps us both on the edge as he pours sweet words down my throat.

“You’re my wife, Mckenna. Mine. And I’ll make love to you every damn day for the rest of our lives.”

I whimper, my hips lifting upwards to meet his thrusts.

We come together beautifully, passionately, desperately. And as I orgasm a second time, Maverick pumps into me faster.

Then, he’s hollering my name and I’m holding him closer, erasing any space between us. We’re lost in our love. Together. Always.

“I got you, beauty. I’m yours,” Maverick whispers in my ear.

I turn my face to kiss him. “And I’m yours.”

We smile at each other and a blanket of relief settles over me.

My husband loves me.

I’m not broken. I’m not a victim.

I’m brave and courageous.

I’m a survivor.

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