Mr and Mrs (Alexa Riley Promises #1)(17)

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 *, 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.





Chapter Ten





Phillip




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.