Victorious(23)

I curl up to him, my head on his chest, his arms around me. I trace my finger over the light scar on his ribs from where he was attacked by a deranged fan last year.

“It’s all going to be fine. They’re on a witch hunt. That’s all this is. I handed them an easy lead with what I said on Carolyn’s show, so they’re taking the easiest and most obvious path straight to me. If they think we had something to do with this, then let them prove it.” He strokes my hair. “We know people in DC, right up to and including the president. He and my dad are friends. If this gets any more out of hand, we’ll call in some favors.”

“So you’ve actually met the president?”

“Many times. You might get to meet him, too, as I’ve requested a meeting with him to discuss the foundation. I want him to throw his support behind it.”

“Holy smokes. You don’t fool around.”

“You didn’t already know that from the way I married you not even two weeks after I met you?”

“I suppose there were signs of this trait of yours.”

His fingers trail down my ribs, digging in just enough to tickle me.

“Stop!”

Nuzzling my neck, he says, “What if I don’t want to?”

“Fluff.”

His hand drops to the mattress. He raises his head to look down at me. “See how easy that was?”

“I don’t like to be tickled.”

“How about I kiss it better?”

“Kissing is good. Tickling is bad.”

“Mmm, I like to think I can be trained.” He kisses his way down the front of me, between my breasts to my ribs, where he retraces the path his fingers had taken.

“And here I thought you were going to train me.”

“We’ll train each other. My goal is always your ultimate pleasure.”

Moving back up, he tends to my breasts, moving slowly, lazily, as if we have all the time in the world, which apparently we do since we’re snowed in. His tongue circles my left nipple while his fingers pinch the right one, just tight enough to draw a gasp from me.

“I love the way you respond to me, Nat,” he says, his voice a hoarse whisper, his breath hot against my damp nipple, “every time I touch you. I love how you arch into me, trying to get closer. And the moan that comes from the back of your throat... It makes me crazy every time I hear it, knowing I made it happen. And that I’m the only one who will ever get to touch you this way makes me so f*cking grateful that you chose me.”

“Like you gave me a choice,” I say with a teasing smile.

“The choice was always yours, my love.” His teeth clamp down on my nipple as his fingers delve between my legs, where I’m hot and ready for him. Always ready for him.

“Fuck, Nat… God, you’re so wet for me.” He replaces his fingers with his cock and presses into me, stopping immediately when I wince. “Does it hurt?”

“I’m a little sore from yesterday.”

He pulls out.

“No, Flynn. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Just go slow at first.” I run my hands down his back to cup his tight, muscular ass. I love the dimples at the bottom of his spine and feel for them with my thumbs.

He gasps. “Natalie…”

“You like that?”

“I f*cking love the feel of your hands on me—anywhere, but when you drag your nails over my ass like that…” A shudder rocks him.

Knowing I can do that to him fills me with delight and pleasure.

He moves into me slowly, in small increments, pressing in and then retreating, giving me time to adjust. He’s big and I’m sore, which should make for a bad combination, but his slow, steady entry has me forgetting all about the soreness as I crave the fullness, the connection, the magic.

Propped on his elbows above me, his forehead resting on mine, he watches me in that intense way of his, making sure that nothing hurts me. I wrap my arms and legs around him, raising my hips to take him deeper.

His low groan makes me smile as I tighten my internal muscles around him, knowing that drives him crazy.

“Fuuuuck,” he says on a long, low exhale.

I do it again and again and again until he forgets all about how he wanted to go slowly and begins to pound into me in the way I love best, wild and unfettered. One set of fingers digs into my shoulder while the other reaches below me to grasp my ass, to hold me still. Then he bends his head and bites my nipple, which sparks my orgasm.

He thrusts into me, pushing hard as he comes, too, and then he sags against me, breathing hard. “Shit.”

I push sweat-soaked strands of hair off his forehead. “What?”

“I was rough, and you’re sore.”

“You were perfect, and I loved it. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I wish you knew how much.”

“I have a pretty good idea.”

For a long time, we stay right where we are, arms wrapped around each other, still joined as we pulse with aftershocks, his sweat merging with mine. “I can’t imagine this getting any better than it already is.”

“It’s not about better so much as it is about more. There’s more I want to share with you, more I want you to experience.” He kisses my neck and jaw on his way to my lips. “You know what I want to do now?”