Page 97 of Marriage (Red, White &) Blues

“Yes. Then I married you and now it’s torture.”

“We’ll survive.”

Later, we sat on the sofa in the living room, eating chili and cornbread, with our clotheson.

The world felt right, complete…wholewhen we were together even without getting naked, although I was getting antsy.

“When’s your next doctor’s appointment?”

“Tomorrow.”

“If they let you take the sling off and give us the okay, then we’ll make up for all the missed opportunities.”

Well, it didn’t help with the urges in my nether region, but it was something.

The next morning, he joined me at MedExpress where they checked me over.

“Let’s see how you feel without the sling,” the doctor said. I squeezed my eyes shut, dipping my head as if in prayer and said, “Thank you.”

Blake helped me unhook the sling and the doctor proceeded with the exam. At the end she said, “You don’t appear to be in any pain. Just take it easy on yourself.”

“Sex?” I blurted out.

“If you’re comfortable with it and are careful, I think it will probably be fine.”

I slowly turned my head to my husband letting a sly smile spread across my lips. “You’re insomuch trouble.”

He barely shook his head and leaned down, grumbling in my ear, “Alpha in the sheets.”

Twenty minutes later we were home. Blake shut the door behind us. He leaned his shoulder against the door with his ankles crossed, swinging the keyring around on his finger. His dimple making a stunning appearance as he stared me down with eyes so darkened by want that I couldn’t discern between pupil and iris. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked, taking a step off the wall. His gaze dropped to my mouth and then lower. I basically went supernova. He charged forward and I stepped back until we hit the sofa and I dropped down. He caged me with a hand to each side of my thighs, then pressed a kiss to my lips, our tongues danced together. My whole body shuddered. He unbuttoned my jeans, yanking my undies down my legs at the same time. But as I was sitting there naked from the waist down, he pushed up from between my legs, sauntering to the kitchen. I heard him open one of the canisters on my counter and he came back unwrapping one of thoseDum•Dumsuckers, tossing the paper onto the coffee table before dropping back down between my thighs. He brought the candy to my mouth.

“Suck,” he ordered andholy hell, I was so turned on. I sucked it into my mouth. Root Beer. It didn’t stay in my mouth long, only long enough to wet it, because he moved the stick down to my sex, and spreading me wide, he swirled the candy around my clit—yes, I finally used the word. The moment definitely called for it. Then he pulled the stick away, using his mouth instead.

“Root Beer flavored Glory. I could get used to this.” He rubbed the candy again, this time with more pressure. My head fell back against the sofa and he sucked harder. The spasms started and I needed more. While I gripped the edges of the cushion, I pushed myself against his face.

He tore his mouth away, gripping the back of my neck and hair, pressing a hard kiss to my lips again all the while using the sucker to bring me to orgasm. My heartbeats hurt. I gasped. I screamed. I begged for more.

“Time to fuck my wife,” he said, and I’d never heard sweeter words. “Legs up. Feet on the cushion. Spread wide for me, Glory,” he commanded and I wasted no time complying. He unbuttoned his jeans, tearing open the zipper, freeing himself. He gave his cock a firm tug. It glistened with a drop of pre-cum. The spasms were starting again just from watching him. He jerked it again, silky and rock hard. “You ready?” he asked, and I nodded quickly because his cock and I had spent way too many nights apart.

He lined up, knees to the cushion in front of me, shoving inside. The stretch from enduring our forced celibacy burned. Blake moved his hands to the back of the sofa on each side of my shoulders. His head and shoulders towered above me as he began thrusting slightly forward and up. With each stroke he glided his cock against my clit—said it again! —and nothing in the world prepared me for the level of orgasmic explosion about to hit us both. Without jostling my upper half too much, he made every stroke count. Beautiful. Rough. Every muscle frommy belly button down vibrated then seized up. He kept going, kept pounding away forward and up. And finally, he came on a roar, filling me, spilling out of me.My husband, ladies and gentlemen.

When he pulled out, he dropped into the seat next to me. “How’d that work for you?” he asked, with his chest still heaving and a sweat glistened brow.

Somehow, I managed to pat his chest. “You know, once you get back into the swing of things, I’m sure it’ll get better,” I teased but he saw right through me, leaning in, heerotic romance novelkissed me and I found my happy place again.

We both slept soundly that night, judging by the way we woke up in the exact same positions as we’d fallen asleep in. Not the first time that happened for us. Blake let me shower first, then while he showered, I dressed for my mother’s wedding. Given the time of year, I dressed in autumn colors. Today, I picked a dress that I’d fallen in love with one of the days Pen and I had gone bridesmaid shopping together. A perk to having a brilliant sculptor for a best friend, she got to set her own hours. We’d spent plenty of time together while Ant worked at his office downtown.

It felt so freeing to have that damn sling off. I felt beautiful today. Blake walked into the bedroom wearing only a towel and had the nerve to say, “Whoa” to me.

Me? Uh… my husband only wore a towel. “We don’t have time,” I said.

He showed me his dimple. “Time for what?” he asked.

“You’re the one who sauntered in here in only a towel, mister.”

“And you’re the one wearing that… that… swath of spank bank currency.”

I coughed on saliva. “‘Spank bank currency’?”

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