War (The Four Horsemen, #2)(90)

“Just … give me a moment. It’s a lot …” Of dick. So much dick.

I can feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. After several seconds, I nod. “Okay. I’m okay.”

War continues his slow sink into me, his gaze searching mine. “Wife,” he says, looking gobsmacked, “you feel incredible.”

War’s face is nothing short of rapturous. I know he’s seasoned at this, so I’m surprised to see how much it’s affecting him.

His eyes are intensely focused on me. I’d have assumed that they’d be drifting far, far away as sensation overwhelmed him, but he’s so present.

Disconcertingly present.

He’s sweating with his need to move slow, to be gentle. I can tell a driving force in him wants to thrust his cock inside me as fast as possible and then to fuck me with abandon. I can practically feel him vibrating with the need. And maybe he’ll eventually do that, but I don’t think that will happen today.

It takes ages, but finally, his hips meet mine as he seats himself fully inside me, stretching me to my limits.

I release a breath. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt anything so exquisite in my life. And he hasn’t even started moving yet.

“I have waited ages for this moment,” he says. “Cannot believe it’s finally upon me.” War smiles again, and I can’t get over how unbearably handsome he is.

I’m shaking with need, my legs splayed on either side of him, feeling more vulnerable than I ever have. I didn’t expect that. This was supposed to just be sex. But the way War is staring down at me, it feels like everything I’ve worked so hard to brick away is being exposed all at once.

“Finally, my wife, you have surrendered.”

He begins to move, pulling out of me just enough to rock back in. My breath leaves me all at once. I was expecting it to hurt. Instead, every slight movement feels so cataclysmically good.

“Wife.” The warlord gazes down at me, his normally violent eyes now full of some gentle emotion. My stomach bottoms out when I realize the emotion isn’t simple desire. “I cannot tell you how I have longed for this. You are mine finally—totally and completely, nothing to separate us.”

The horseman thrusts into me again, as if to emphasize his point.

My nails sink into his back at the sensation, and he pauses, maybe to make sure that he’s not hurting me.

I can barely form the words over my own heightened desire.

“Don’t stop,” I breathe. “Please don’t.”

Again, that roguish smile.

War begins to thrust himself into me, first with slow, meticulous precision, but then with increasing force. I’m arching into each thrust, and already I feel my orgasm starting to build in the background.

The entire time, War watches me, like he wants to own every look, every moment. Every so often he whispers phrases in other languages that translate to my beautiful wife and never have I known such pleasure and this is the closest to heaven I have been in a long time.

This is … not at all like my other experiences with sex. This is the kind of sex that ruins you.

As I feel him stroke me deep within, I finally sense the horseman’s true nature. He cannot be anything other than battle breathed to life. All this flesh holds the violence of eons; I feel it in each thunderous thrust of his hips. And yet, as his hands slip over my body, there’s an unexpected softness to his touch.

He kisses me up the column of my throat, his hips pistoning in and out, in and out.

“So beautiful,” he now murmurs. “How long I have yearned for you.”

War’s pace changes, deepening—and it’s as though the last several minutes have been a tease and this is the real thing.

Instantly my body is coiling, my looming orgasm now building rapidly—too rapidly—

All at once I shatter.

I cry out, pulling the horseman tightly to me as I feel my climax rip through me. Over and over I feel it, and just when it begins to end I feel War thicken inside me.

“My wife, my heart.” He groans as his own orgasm moves through him, his thrusts becoming stronger and faster as he spills into me.

War gazes down at me, his eyes going a little hazy as he rides the last of his orgasm out. What feels like an eternity later, the horseman’s thrusts begin to slow. Eventually, he has no choice but to slip out of me.

I’m sore everywhere; the kind of sore that makes your cheeks flush.

War lays back on his bed and drags me onto his stomach. He cups my core, even as I feel his cum begin to leak out of me.

“To feel that a part of me is inside you still—wife, there is no more thrilling sensation in the world,” he states.

My breathing begins to slow, my sweaty flesh cooling. All my aches and pains are flaring back to life.

Now that I’m beginning to come down, War’s adoration is starting to—well, I’m having a few misgivings.

The sex—I definitely want second helpings of that—but the horseman is looking at me like things have changed. And yeah, my close brush with death had given me some perspective, and yeah, I did surrender to him and all, but now I’m sensing that my words and actions might mean a smidge more to him than they do to me.

I begin to push away from him. “I should clean myself up …” There’s still a tub full of water, and now I’m sticky—