53. Ember

53

EMBER

H udson’s dominating me tonight, in every way possible. Taking control of my body, my mind, and even the words I say.

I’ve never referred to him as “ husband ” before, and it’s like he is training me to love it. Rewarding me with pleasure every time I chant it for him.

The orgasm high lingers longer than usual as he strips off his pants and slides himself over the top of my body, our chests melting into each other. His hard cock is wedged between us as I roll my hips up and down over the length.

I’m still harnessed to the bed and desperate for more of him, like usual, so I use what little space I have to move and rub my clit over the backside of the swollen tip.

His face is pressed into mine, with his jaw slacked, hanging on to his last thread of power as I continue to rock my hips over his. He’s squeezing his eyes closed, like it’s painful to look at me.

“I need you.” He nuzzles into my neck as he rears his hips back and pushes his cock deep inside me.

I whimper as he fills me inch by inch because, no matter how many times I’ve had him, it still feels like getting impaled by a semi truck. Knocking the wind out of me for a brief moment until the pleasure completely takes over.

He pushes into his hands, hovering our faces over each other, pressing his forehead into mine. It’s different than anything I’ve felt from him before.

His movements are slow and calculated, spending time surveying my body with his eyes, fingers, and his tongue, not missing claiming an inch. The entire time, he pushes in and out of me at a flawless, excruciating pace.

“You feel so goddamn good,” he admits, his tone demanding and desperate.

“I want to keep you here forever.” He pistons deeper into me with a groan.

“Say you’re mine.” Pumping into me again. I moan at the invasion and his words.

“Say you’re fucking mine.” He pushes into me harder, grabbing my hair to pull my face flush with his, forcing me to look deep into his now jet-black eyes. “Everything, all of it. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours…” I confess, because it’s the truth. I have had no control over my body when it comes to Hudson, and it’s been that way from the moment he touched me. But now, my heart, my back stabbing heart, betrays me, no matter how hard I’ve fought to keep it from him. “I’m yours… always.”

He growls into my neck, cursing through his orgasm as it plows through him and into me. I clench around him, and my teeth bite into his shoulder as I moan through my own.

Falling into me, his body covers me wholly, and I welcome the weight. I can hide behind it, hide for a moment longer in a world where it’s just me and him.

Our breathing slows, and the only sound is the soft whisper of air that moves between us as we come back to reality.

The air around us thickens. The silence thunders. It’s louder than all the words he said tonight, the ones that play on a constant loop, repeating in my head.

“Husband.” “Wife.” “I need you.” “Say you’re mine.”

There was a softness about him tonight, hidden behind the aggression of his body language. He made love to me tonight while claiming me at the same time, and it’s nothing like anything that I’ve experienced from him before. It was both love and hate, pain and pleasure battling each other, landing us in a post sex world of confusion. It’s only after I hear the words he says next that I realize what this was for him, for us. A goodbye.

“I know about New York.”