Page 38 of Sex, Lies, and Margarita Mixes

When we’re both ruined, quiet, and tangled in each other’s arms and legs, I kiss his ring finger again.

His Tungsten and silver band glints between our bodies and I whisper, “You can keep the ring.”

He pulls me closer. “Put yours back on, Roxy. I’m not going anywhere. Ever. I’m keeping you.”

The shower is pulsing. The water is hot.

Steam curls around the room like it’s trying to erase what just happened. But it can’t. Because I still feel him. Inside me. On me. In every heartbeat that stutters when I think about how he looked at me—like I was the only thing he’s ever wanted and told me he was mine. When he told me he wanted me to put my ring back on because he was keeping me and wasn’t leaving… ever, the last of my walls crumbled.

He steps in behind me, close, but he doesn’t touch me. He just waits, letting the water bead on his chest and trail down the abs I’ve dreamed about, cried on, laughed against, licked, kissed, and come completely undone for.

I lean back, pressing my ass to his groin and my back to his chest. His hands are resting on my waist, anchoring me there. His mouth is at my neck. There’s no urgency, no need to race to the end for fear he’ll leave. It’s just him and me.

Familiar. Gentle. Steady.

He grabs the shampoo, pours some into his hands, and lathers it slowly. He washes my hair like he’s memorizing every inch of it. Like touching me isn’t about sex anymore, it’s about devotion.

I let him.

Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back and let him worship me without words.

And when I open them, he’s looking at me like he’s never seen anything he wants more.

“You okay?” he whispers.

I nod. “Are you?”

His mouth quirks. “I’m in a shower with my sexy-as-fuck wife, fully erect, and emotionally exposed. So, no. Not really but it’s worth it.”

I laugh. Not because it’s funny but because it’s real. Because he’s real.

He washes my back next. Then, my arms. And he reaches around me to cleanse my chest, taking the time to get every inch. He cups my breasts in his hands, rubbing them, rolling the soap over my nipples and his hands trail down my sides before he washes my stomach. I’m so aroused but I stand there, soaking in his delicious torment.

He kneels behind me to wash my legs. He takes his time to wash my ankles, my calves, my knees, and my thighs. He kneads my ass, washing me and turning me on at the same time. I rinse and his hands help to remove the soap. I moan and press my palms against the shower wall, fearful that my knees will give out. He kisses my hip, and I jerk as he delves his fingers through the curls covering my sex. He takes his time. My legs part and he kisses my other hip while a finger slides inside of my soaked pussy. “Lean forward, baby. Open up for me. Let me love you.” I do as he asks. He inserts a second finger, and then, a third. He’s fingering me and rolling my clit while he kisses and sucks my hips and ass cheeks. His nose slides up my crack and I gasp. “Do you want me to, Rox?”

I do. I want him to.

I breathlessly say, “Yes, oh yes, Chase.” Using some of my natural lube from my pussy, he slowly begins circling my ass hole. I arch back and he chuckles as he inserts just the tip. He stops and I spasm around him. He kisses my cheek again.

“Easy baby… easy…” He moves it deeper, and I moan as I push back against his hand. His other hand returns to my pussy, and he slowly starts to move them in tandom. In and out of both of my holes while his tongue traces the curves of my ass and he peppers it with kisses. I start shaking at the abundance of sensations. The water is still beating down over us, and Chase is turning me into putty. His thumb rolls against my clit as his fingers curl inside of my pussy and his other finger fucks my ass.

I move against him. He moans against the back of my thighs as my movements quicken. “Chase… baby… oh… Ohhhh… I can’t… Ohhhhhh… I need… Fuck… Oh fuck… I can’t.. Oh, God… Chase… I’m cumming… Ohhhhhhh, f…u…c…k…. Ohhhhhhh.”

I fall apart.

I’m so spent after my orgasm, I slide to join him on the shower floor.

Pulling me into his arms, he smoothes the wet hair off of my face. I’m still spasming as he says, “You didn’t run this time, baby.”

“I can’t move. There’s no way I could run. Even if I wanted to.” I stare up at him. The man I love.

He chuckles but asks, “Did you want to?”

I swallow, “I thought about it.”

He exhales. “But you stayed.”

I mutter, “Yeah. I did.”

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