Mr and Mrs (Alexa Riley Promises #1)(16)

“It was forever. Waiting those three months.”

The elevator finally dings and Phillip exits, still keeping me in his arms. He heads right down a long hallway and walks through a set of open double doors. There is a giant bed in the center of the room and Phillip deposits me on it. He starts stripping me of my clothes.

“I didn’t even want to wait a second after the first time I saw you. So three months felt like an eternity,” he says, pulling my sandals off, then going for the loose-fitting pajamas pants I have on. My shirt comes up a little, and he freezes, his eyes going to the little baby bump. I can’t stop myself from touching it.

He leans in, kissing it, then his kisses start to travel lower.

“Phillip.” The word comes out breathy as I feel his mouth over my mound through the thin fabric of my simple white panties. I let my legs drop open more. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to make room for my giant of a husband. His hand comes up, pushing the fabric out of the way, exposing me to him.

“I should let you rest, make you something to eat, but I—”

“Yes.” The word comes out as a moan. The need in his voice makes him sound like he can’t go another minute without tasting me or he might die.

His mouth descends on me, hungry and fierce. There’s no softness or build-up. He goes straight for my clit, sucking it into his mouth. I instantly cum like my body has been sitting on edge for months, and it only makes Phillip wilder, eating at me faster.

“I need another. Give it to me. It’s mine,” he growls, before going back to my clit, consuming every drop of my first orgasm, consuming me. I give him what he demands, coming so hard I have to close my eyes as I jerk against his face.

When I finally open my eyes, I see I’ve been moved to the center of the bed.

“Sleep. I’ll make you something to eat.” He kisses me, and I taste myself on him, but he pulls away far too quickly. I want more. I want the weight of his body on top of mine, but he’s already walking out the bedroom doors, and I’m alone in bed. The sight gives me a stir of something familiar.





Chapter Nine





Molly




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 *.

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