VICTORIOUS (A Quantum Novel)(63)

“Whatever has become of my sweet, virtuous wife?”

“She married a sex-crazed maniac who has turned her into one, too.”

“Is that right?” He zeroes in on my lips, his eyes heating with desire. “Maniac, huh?”

“Answer the question.”

“Since you came down with the bubonic plague, I have not once touched the equipment except to pee and wash it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He takes my hand and covers his rock-hard erection. “He’s all yours—and only yours—whenever you’re ready to get back in the saddle.” Kissing my forehead and then my lips, he says, “P.S., it’s no fun without you. I hope you’re happy that you’ve ruined a long career of monkey spanking.”

“That’s very gross and very funny.”

“Also very true. I have no desire to ‘take things in hand’ when you’re around.”

“And this is a… new… development?”

“Very new. The hand and I go way back. It’s been a jarring breakup.”

I laugh so hard that my sides ache.

“This is the second time you’ve laughed at my pain. More demerits.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “If I were to help you with this pent-up situation you’ve got going on, would you let me leave the house?”

“Only if I can go with you.”

“Will I get to drive?”

“That could be arranged.”

“And will you take me to the club tonight?”

“Oh, well, um, you’ve been so sick. You might not be ready for that yet.”

“I’m ready.” I run my finger down his chest and hook it in the waistband of his jeans. “I’m more than ready.”

“I’m afraid to touch you right now.”

“How come?”

“The pent-up thing we previously discussed.”

“So you’re afraid you might scare me?”

He bites his lip and nods.

I lean close enough to touch my lips to his ear. “Do your worst.”

His arms band around my waist as he lifts me up and over his shoulder.

I let out a squeak of surprise as he takes us into the bedroom, coming down on top of me. He breaks the contact only long enough to all but tear the clothes from our bodies before he returns, wrapping himself around me. “This is gonna be fast,” he whispers the second before he captures my lips in a kiss that tells me how much he’s missed being close to me while I was sick. His hands are everywhere, tweaking my nipples, stroking my back and bottom, caressing the slick heat between my legs.

“Need you so bad, Nat.”

“Take me. I’m all yours.”

As he slides into me fully in one deep stroke, I arch my back, needing to be closer, as close as I can get.

He takes my hands and holds them over my head, our eyes meeting as he makes certain this is okay with me. It’s more than okay. I wrap my legs around his hips and meet his every stroke. He pulls out of me, leaving me reeling and on the verge of exploding.

“Turn over.”

When I’m posed on all fours the way he wants me, he kneels behind me, grasps my hips and drives into me again. “Yes,” he whispers. “I wanted to be deeper.”

I drop my head to my forearms and submit to him completely. He’s taken such tender care of me during my illness. I want to give back to him in every possible way.

“Ah, God, Nat…” His fingertips dig into my hips, and he picks up the pace. Then he reaches around to stroke my clit.

“Flynn…” He’s not my Sir right now. He’s not my Dom. He’s my husband, and I love him desperately. “Please…”

“Yes. Now. With me.”

It’s perfect and beautiful, and the connection I feel to him is nothing short of spiritual. He has truly been there for me in good times and in bad, and we’ve had plenty of both in our first six weeks together.

He rests on top of me, the way he always does after he makes love to me. I love the way he holds me afterward while our bodies cool and pulse with aftershocks.

“Flynn.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for taking such good care of me while I was sick.”

“It was my pleasure to take care of you, but don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“I want you to know…”