12. Dalton

TWELVE

"This all feels very sexual,"Dia says from behind me as I sit on the couch, watching the rerun of last night's hockey game. My younger brother, Benton, just got called up to the Texas Thunder and although he didn't see the ice last night, I still want to see what the team looks like. Currently, they're warming up, with several players doing groin stretches on the ice.

I look over my shoulder to where she's standing. I try not to react to the sight of her in only a pair of panties and one of my Blizzard t-shirts. "It's not sexual," I say with a scoff. "They're just making sure they're loose." Just then, one of the guys drops down into a frog stretch and begins rocking back and forth. I've seen this a million times, since I grew up watching my brother. But now that I'm really looking at it…okay, it does look sexual.

She rounds the couch, settling herself on the floor, much closer to the television than necessary. "Hockey players are so hot," she says with a sigh. "The muscles. The fighting. The stamina. I bet you they can go all night lon?—"

Before she can even finish her sentence, I'm up out of my seat hurdling the coffee table, and playfully tackling her to the ground. She laughs as I get her to her back, pinning her down with my thigh between her legs. She tries to buck me off, but I'm unmovable. "Is that so?" I ask. "That's what you want? A man that will fuck that sweet pussy all night long?"

"Mhmmm…" she half hums, half moans as I shove my thigh up, wedging it against her core. I feel her hips flex, just slightly, as though she's trying to create some friction against her clit. God, I fucking want her so badly, I can barely restrain myself. But after the other night in the kitchen, I vowed that I wouldn't let my hormones lead me into making her think that's all I'm looking for with her. I want Dia to know there's more to this thing than just sex.

I'm not dumb enough to think we can navigate six weeks of marriage and living together without me needing to make sure she's satisfied, but I can do that without fucking her. At least until she agrees to let me show her how good of a husband I can be.

I know she wants that, deep down. Otherwise, she wouldn't have come into my bed that night…and every other night since. It's been a week since the cereal incident, and neither of us have brought it back up. I didn't want to reopen a fresh wound too soon, but I fully plan on asking her again to give me the next five weeks to prove to her that I can provide the things she deserves.

I lean in brushing my lips against hers, earning an appeased sigh. I trail kisses down her face and jaw, making her squirm underneath me. "I fully plan on making you come in lots of creative ways," I say into her ear. "But if you want this cock again, I'm going to need you to give me what I want, Dia. As soon as you do, I'll fuck you until you beg me to stop."

I don't give her a moment to answer because I don't want her to answer right now. I want her to take time to think about what I'm asking for. I also don't want her thinking that she's going to be left completely unsatisfied if she decides that she's not able to agree to let me take care of her. Instead, I kiss her again. This time, I move my thigh against her while I do it.

She moans into my mouth as I add more pressure, making a direct hit with my quad to her clit. She begins grinding her hips into me, taking what she needs. Her eyes are closed as she rides me from below, but we can't have that. Grabbing her face between my thumb and fingers, I squeeze just enough to get her attention. "Eyes on me, Wifey. That's my only rule with this. You look at me when I make you feel good."

Her eyes snap open. Her pupils are completely blown as she locks onto mine, giving me the connection I so desperately need. She's fucking beautiful, with her flushed skin and heaving chest as she sucks in air, letting it out with loud moans. I'm harder than stone as I thrust my thigh forward, simultaneously rubbing my cock on her leg as I do. I refuse to lose it though. I won't come while we do this. I'll wait until I'm alone and jack off in the shower to the memory of her ruining her panties for me right here on our living room floor.

I know how crazy that sounds. Choosing to leave this situation without coming when Dia is completely willing to do everything with no strings attached. But the strings are exactly what I hunger for. And until she understands that I want her for more than what I can get from her body, I'm not taking anything.

"Please don't stop," she whimpers. "I'm so close."

Funny that she thinks I'd ever stop. I live to make Dia Davis come.

I keep thrusting as I reach up her shirt, pleased to find her full tits without the restriction of a bra. I find her nipple, pinching it tightly between my thumb and forefinger. A beautiful scream leaves her lips when I begin rolling it slowly.

"Such a pretty fucking sound, baby," I say. "Come for me. And don't forget how empty your cunt is when it squeezes, desperately searching for your husband's cock."

That's all it takes to make her come undone as her orgasm hits her like a freight train. Her muscles seize as it flows through her, until she finally relaxes with a contented sigh.

"Better?" I ask, leaning down for a quick peck on her open lips.

"Much," she replies on a breathy laugh.

I chuckle, moving off of her. "What are your plans for the week?" I ask, hoping the change of subject will make my dick deflate.

She sits up. "Well, I think I need to go back to Chicago and pack my things. I wouldn't put it past my old boss to throw everything out at the end of the month. I don't have much, but I definitely want to keep it." She looks down. "I need my own clothes. I can't keep walking around here in just your t-shirts and my underwear."

"First of all," I reply, putting one finger into the air, "yes you can. And secondly," I add another finger, "if you'd just let me buy you some new stuff, you wouldn't have to worry about it." I know she deposited the check from her ring into her bank account, but I refuse to suggest that she spend a dime of that. In fact, if she does, I'll just transfer more over. Because if she chooses to leave me in five weeks, I want her life to be as easy as possible.

She rolls her eyes, "That's such a rich person thing to say. I don't need new stuff. I just have to go pack up. My rent is paid for the next two weeks, so it's safe to go back and get it. He isn't a bad guy and he's been a decent landlord. He's just a dick."

"Okay," I relent. "Want me to come with you?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "Stay here and spend some time with Blaze so he doesn't wonder why you haven't been around as much. I'll go back for a couple days and rent a storage unit in Boston until I get my own place."

I raise a brow. "Now who's talking like a rich person?" I joke. "This place is huge. I have that whole downstairs area where I throw all the PR boxes that I don't feel like opening. There's plenty of extra space down there for your stuff."

She smiles and it makes my heart speed up. She's so goddamn beautiful. "Okay, that makes sense."

"Good girl," I say, reaching to grab my phone from the coffee table and pulling up the airline app. "I'll buy your plane ticket."

She opens her mouth to speak, but I interrupt. "Go ahead and argue with me. I can promise you spankings aren't nearly as fun when you don't get my cock afterward."

She huffs in annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest. I lean forward, kissing her nose before I return to my phone and secure her flight to Chicago.