Mr and Mrs (6 page)

I
let
out a squeal as I’m grabbed, turned, and pushed softly up against the wall outside our bathroom. Phillip’s big body cages me. The morning light floods the bare white walls of the bedroom and my husband’s face is illuminated by the golden glow. He looks almost savage, his hair wild. I probably had a hand in that as I’d twisted my fingers in his hair not so long ago. I’d woken with him fully wrapped around me like a second skin, one hand protectively on my belly, the other cupping my sex, his face buried in my neck.

The last thing I remembered was his mouth on me before I passed out. I had a vague recollection of him saying he was going to make me something to eat, but I must have slept through the rest of the day and night, only waking because I had a crazy need to go to the bathroom. The baby was already pushing on my bladder, or maybe it was the fact that I’d slept twelve hours.

But what has me catching my breath is the wild look in his eyes. Almost like he’s a predator and I’m his prey. He’d caught me easily, not that I would give him a fight. The look is intense, and I wonder if he always looks like this. I also wonder if he always keeps his facial hair a little long like this or if it’s just because of all the time we spent at the hospital, when he refused to leave my side to even shave.

I reach up, running my fingers through it. I like it. He leans into my touch, his eyes falling closed like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt in his life.

“I thought you were gone,” he finally says in a gruff voice.

“I’m right here.” I try to reassure him. “Just had to go to the bathroom.”

His forehead drops to mine, and we just stand there for a few moments until his hands finally drop from the wall, landing on my waist. Then he does something I don’t except. He falls to his knees in front of me, taking me by surprise.

“Yes, you’re right here. You’ll never leave me.” His big hands slide under the long shirt I have on, and he starts pulling down my underwear. When they reach my ankles, I step out of them.

“Say it,” he commands, all that intensity coming through in his words, coating the air around us.

“I’ll never leave you.” I see the tension visibly leave his body.

“Show me. Show me what belongs to me.”

I bite my lip, feeling a little embarrassed. I know he wants me to lift my shirt, to show him my vagina or my baby bump, I’m not really sure. I know he’s my husband and that we have of course done these things before, but with him on his knees in front of me, demanding it…it’s dirty and hot and I can feel heat reach my cheeks.

I do it. I want to give this to him. I can tell he’s on edge. If there is anything I’ve learned about this man in the past few days, it’s that his world seems to begin and end with me. It’s like I’m his everything and I have this way of calming him down with little touches. It’s an intoxicating feeling.

Slowly I reach down and grab the hem of the shirt and start to raise it. Inch by inch it slides up my thighs, his eyes following the path until I finally reveal my pussy.

“More,” he demands, and I keep going all the way past my little baby bump. “Spread your legs farther apart.”

Taking a small step, I open myself up to him.

“Say it again. Tell me you belong to me.” His hands come up, pushing my shirt even higher and revealing my breasts to him. He drags his fingers across my nipples, making them even harder. Then they trail down to my stomach as his other hand continues to cup me. “Who does all this belong to, sweet little Molly?”

“It’s yours.” I push myself into his hand between my legs. His making me tell him I belong to him is doing things to me. I can feel the moisture flood between my thighs.

“Show me where you want my mouth. Open it for me.” His eyes land to my pussy, and he has to lean down a little. He's so tall that even on his knees he almost comes up to my breasts.

Using one hand to hold up my shirt like he asked, I slide the other down my body. When I get to the juncture of my thighs, I spread the lips of my sex for him.

His eyes fill with so much passion and need I almost don’t see him move. His mouth descends, sucking my clit into his mouth, making me moan. I rise up on my toes, wanting him to be able to have as much access as possible.

“That’s it, Molly. Fuck your husband’s face. Take what you want because I’ll always give it to you. I like you just as needy as I am,” he growls against me before going back to sucking and licking. His tongue licking my fingers and my sex simultaneously makes it that much more erotic. I’m holding myself open for him to consume me. And he does.

Both his hands move to my hips, his fingers digging into the flesh in a firm possessive hold. I know he has me and I can let the pleasure take me. This man will catch me and I will let him.

The orgasm shoots through my body, making me scream out his name. My head falls back, my eyes closing as the sensations flow through my body. I feel him move, but I’ve lost the power to open my eyes.

He lays me out on the bed, and I manage to open my eyes to see him caging me once again. I’m starting to see a pattern with this man. It makes me smile.

Then I look down and see what he’s doing. He has pulled himself out of his boxer briefs and he’s stroking himself. It doesn’t take but a few strokes and I feel his warm cum hit my mound. I wish I would’ve looked sooner and gotten to see him stroke himself more.

He moans my name as he continues to cum, more spurting out as his strokes slow down. Then with the head of his cock, he starts rubbing the moisture into my skin. The sight is the hottest thing.

When he’s got me coated to his satisfaction, he crawls up the bed a little and gives me a lazy kiss. I can taste myself on his lips.

“You really need to eat now, baby. Come on.” He pulls me from the bed, putting himself back into his underwear, still hard. He walks over to where he dropped my panties, picking them up bringing them over to me. He bends down and I step into them.

“Don’t clean that off.” He glares at me like I might disobey him, but I just smile and nod.

“I’m going to use the bathroom, then cook you something. Explore if you like, but don’t use the elevator.”

“And go where?” I tease. I’m not even dressed.

“Away from me.”

I try to tell him I’m not going anywhere, but his mouth takes mine, stopping my chance. His tongue pushes into my mouth as he hungrily eats at me like we’re saying goodbye forever.

When he finally pulls back, I’m out of breath.

“I like your lips swollen like that,” he tells me, placing a chaste kiss on them before heading to the bathroom. He stops at the door, turning to look at me for a second.

“Not going anywhere.” I know that’s what he wants to hear. I don’t know if I should be concerned about how much he’s worrying. It doesn’t bother me, but I just don’t want him to get himself so worked up. Maybe once the accident is a behind us, some of his fear will start to fade.

He nods, disappearing into the bathroom, and I watch him go. I can’t help but admire his body. He’s built like a freaking tank compared to me, but where I’m soft, he’s all hard.

Turning, I head out of our room and down the hallway. I pass an office and a spare room. Everything is just white and plain. No real life to it. It doesn’t feel like home.

Until I hit the living room and see painting after painting on the floor, carefully propped up against the wall. They look like they need to be hung. All over them are images of Phillip and me. I wonder if they’re moments in our lives I can’t remember. I just stand and study them. They are stunning.

“They’re yours,” Phillip says, and I look over my shoulder to see him standing behind me.

“I painted them?” I look back at the paintings, hoping to remember something, but nothing comes. They
feel
right though. Not like this condo. “I must really like you,” I say teasingly, turning to look at him again. His hair is wet from the quick shower he must have taken, and he’s only wearing a pair of jeans.

Something flashes in his eyes as he looks back to the paintings like he’s never seen them before.

I
knew
Carl had said all the paintings were of me, but I had no idea. It was like I’d filled her every thought like she does mine. That cools some of the bitterness that still rides me. When I’d woken this morning and she wasn't in bed, I’d almost lost it.

I was shocked I hadn't felt her leave the bed to begin with, but last night was the best night of sleep I’d had in what felt like an entirely. With her in my arms, I drifted right off to sleep. Knowing she was safe. That I had her back and she would never be leaving me again.

I should’ve felt guilt that I hadn’t woken her when I came back to bed after making her something to eat, but my need to crawl into bed and just hold her won out. I just wanted to wrap around her and forget about all the plans I’d laid.

I was making sure reporters didn’t come near her. Making sure Cindy wouldn’t blow my cover. It had taken a lot of work and some heavy pull and money to get reporters to back the fuck off, but Cindy was the hardest. I think she could hear the desperation in my voice.

“We’re waiting to hang them in the new house,” I half lie. I will be hanging them in the new house, I just hadn't really known about them before.

“New house. That’s why this place is so
blah
. You already moved some stuff?” She looks around the condo with a scrunched face like she doesn't like it at all.

I reach out and pull her towards me. She tilts her head back to look at me. One of her bare feet lifts and starts to run along my leg as she settles more into me. She may not remember us, but her body does. A deeper part of her does. We fit together. That comfort has always been there. It’s been there from the very beginning.

I knew she didn’t love this place, but I didn't think she had such a distaste for it. How had I missed that? I didn't want to miss anything with her. When I made her happy, it made me happy. Just to light up her face seemed to light me up inside.

“You could say that. The new place is almost ready. I promise you’ll love it.”

“How can you be so sure? I’m not even sure I know what I want my dream house to be.”

“If you don’t like it, I’ll rip it down and start all over again,” I tell her, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her mouth. God, how I missed this. I won’t be missing it again.

She starts to deepen the kiss and I pull back, knowing where that’s going. It’s taking everything in me not to take her, but doing that seems wrong on some level. I won’t do it until she remembers or she tells me she loves me.

I just hope I can make her fall back in love with me before she remembers. I still don’t even know why she ran, but this time I’ll make sure I do everything right. No more walls or hiding who I am. She’s going to see how much I need her. How I won’t be giving her any space.

I scoop her up into my arms. “None of that,” I tease her before she can try and go for my mouth again.

“Let me feed you. Then I’ll spread your legs open on the dinner room table and have my own breakfast.”