Victorious(8)

“We’ll be close by if you need us,” Seth said. “Just send a text.” Bringing my bag to me, he uses his keycard to send me to the top-floor apartment. I let Fluff off the leash in the elevator. The doors open into Flynn’s foyer, and Fluff trots into the apartment like she owns the place. And then she starts barking, snarling and growling.

I pull my bag off the elevator and follow her into the living room, where I see that she’s barking, snarling and growling at Flynn.

“Natalie…” He looks awful. His gorgeous face is ravaged by despair. I can tell with one quick look that he hasn’t slept since I saw him last.

I’m still angry that he lied to me. I still don’t know how I feel about discovering he’s a sexual dominant with desires I can’t begin to understand. I have no idea where we can possibly go from here.

But none of that matters when compared to how much I love him. All I see when I look at him is the man who came running to me at my darkest hour, who went to war on my behalf, who donated half a million dollars to my sick friend and gave me the sun, the moon and the stars. I see my best friend and my love.

I run to him.

He meets me halfway and lets out a low moan as he hugs me fiercely, lifting me off my feet into his embrace.

I cling to him, breathing in his familiar scent, relief coursing through me. The turbulence inside me settles and quiets. I’m back where I belong, and that’s the only thing I know for certain right now.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers. “This was all my fault. I should’ve told you everything.” His face brushes against mine, leaving dampness behind. His tears shatter me all over again. “I’ll do anything… Anything it takes to fix this. I can’t live without you, Nat. I love you so much. Tell me you still love me.”

“I do, Flynn. I still love you.”

And then he’s kissing me, fiercely, intently, and it’s like the first time all over again, that day on the street outside of Aileen’s when he kissed me like he would die if he couldn’t kiss me right in that moment. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back, every bit as desperate for him.

He pushes my coat off my shoulders, and it lands on the floor behind me. Then he’s lifting me and carrying me into the bedroom. We come down on the bed in a tangled mass of limbs, all without missing a beat in the kiss. His hands are everywhere, as if he’s taking inventory and making sure I’ve returned to him whole and intact.

I can’t get close enough to him, even with my fingers fisted into his hair, my legs intertwined with his and his tongue in my mouth. It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough. “Flynn…” I break the kiss, gasping for badly needed air.

“Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you.” I tug at his T-shirt, which quickly disappears over his head. Nuzzling his muscular chest and taking comfort in the soft brush of his chest hair against my face, I am home.

He drags my sweater up and over my head, releases my bra and unbuttons my jeans. I fumble with the button to his jeans, so he helps me.

The second we are both naked, he rolls me under him and pushes into me in one smooth stroke that stretches me to the point of pain. It’s the most exquisite pain I’ve ever experienced. His eyes close and his forehead comes down on mine. The relief I see on his face is so profound it brings me to tears.

For the longest time, neither of us moves. We simply exist, together, breathing the same air, our bodies joined, our hearts beating as one again.

“Natalie…” He kisses my face, my lips, my neck, and then returns to my lips.

I wrap my legs around his hips, hoping to encourage him to move, but he remains maddeningly still.

“I love you so much,” he whispers against my lips. “I almost lost my mind without you. I f*cked this up so bad, and I’m going to fix it. I’ll do anything it takes, but please don’t leave me again. Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” For better or worse, he’s my husband, and I love him. Every beat of my heart is for him.

His tortured moan seems ripped straight from his soul, his tears dampen my face and neck as he begins to move in me, thrusting deep, withdrawing and slamming into me, over and over again. He hooks his arms under my legs, pulling them up higher and driving farther into me.

He keeps watch over me in that sharp, knowing way of his, looking for signs of trouble. But there’s no trouble. There’s only piercing pleasure as his forceful strokes trigger a powerful orgasm that makes me scream from the sheer magic we create together. At least it’s magic to me. I’m not sure now if he feels the same.

Thrusting deeply, he throws his head back, his eyes closed and his jaw tense as he comes. I’ve never seen anything more magnificent than the sight of my husband lost in passion, lost in me.

As amazing as it was, however, I’m again left to wonder if he’s as satisfied as I am.

He releases my legs, which are quivering in the aftermath. I hold him close to me, his face nuzzled into the nook between my neck and shoulder. His heavy breathing sets off goose bumps that make my nipples tighten.

He groans. “Do that again.”

“What did I do?”

“Tighten your * around my cock.”

His earthy language, which would be off-putting from anyone else, is a huge turn-on coming from him. I give him what he wants.