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Mr and Mrs Page 4
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“Come and get it, wife.”
Reaching down, I give my cock a few hard strokes, showing her what she’s done to me from the moment I laid eyes on her—when my body came alive for what felt like the first time in my life—and I see her eyes widen in delight. We are on the same page. She may be a virgin and have no experience other than with me, but she knows what she wants. She’s not ashamed of her body. She’s not embarrassed to tell me how to use it, and I respect the fuck out of her for it.
“We have years to make love, Phillip,” she says, slinking up between my legs. “Right now, I don’t want foreplay. I’ve waited too long for you.” I can hear the need in her voice.
She grabs the lacy ribbon in the middle of her tummy and gives it one good jerk. The material unravels, and I groan, leaking more cum. It lubes up my cock as I give it a few more strokes.
She straddles my legs. I drop my cock and grab her hips, helping her to climb on top of me. I grit my teeth at the sight of her, naked and getting ready to take my dick. Her hand comes between us and she guides me to her opening. I hiss through my teeth at the tightness already hugging the head of it.
“Phillip.” I pull my eyes away from where she’s holding me at her entrance, to her soft green eyes. She smiles at me, and it’s as if we’re sharing a secret. I smile back, and she drops down on my cock in one quick motion.
My groan is loud, and she lets out a little squeak of pain. I hold her to me as we both breathe through the new feeling—her having me inside her and me being strangled by her glorious pussy. It takes me longer than her to recover. She starts to move a little, but I grab her hips and still her, trying to get myself under control.
After I think I have myself together enough to keep from cumming the second she moves, I give her a nod.
“Go slow,” I say, giving her a stern look. She gives me a mischievous one in return, and I know I’m in trouble.
She tests out the length of my cock, slowly moving up and down until she has familiarized herself with him. She’s discovered every inch of him, and I’ve groaned loudly at each pass. Fuck, I’m never going to last.
As I grab her thick hips, her tits start to bounce in my face. I lean forward just a little as the soft flesh hits me with each movement. She’s so soft everywhere, and I can’t take it anymore. She wanted all of me, and I’m going to give it to her.
Rolling up over her, I thrust into her hard. She grips the headboard behind her and moans loudly into the room, her back arching off the bed. Rose petals are stuck to both of us, but I couldn’t care less.
“You’re taking me so good, baby.” She lets out another curse, loving my dirty talk. “Goddamn, you’re a virgin, but you want it rough. Thank God you're my wife. All fucking mine.”
Her legs come around my hips and she grinds into me. There isn’t an ounce of hesitation in our love-making. And it is love-making. It may be fierce and strong, but there is so much love between us.
I take her just like she wants it. Her nails dig into my shoulders and back. Our passion has been stemmed back for too long. She’s so fucking tight and too goddamn good for me to last any longer.
I’d stroked my cock thinking about this moment so many times, but it wasn't even a tenth as amazing as the reality of it.
Reaching between us, I strum her clit and tell her what she needs to do.
“Cum on me, my love. Give your husband your cherry orgasm. It’s mine. It belongs to me.”
She clenches around me and, like a good girl, cums on my cock. It’s so beautiful watching her writhe while I’m inside of her. The blush that sweeps across her skin as she lets out her pleasure sends me over the edge. I cum deep in her, unable to hold back. She’s too perfect, and she’s all mine.
I blink a few times and adjust my erection, putting away thoughts of our wedding night. We spent a week in that house on the sound and never once saw the water. I hated leaving that house. It felt even then like our bubble was bursting. I knew after that week that things had to change in my life. I couldn’t be away from her after having all of her in every way imaginable.
Hitting my fist against the steering wheel, I blame myself for this. I should have acted sooner. Cared less about the stability of the company and said fuck it before it got to this point. She deserved better. She deserved all of me. Now that I’m going to get her back, she will get it. I’ll make this right. Just as soon as I turn her over my knee for ever thinking about leaving me. All this need I’ve been holding back is about to be ripped wide open.
Chapter Six
Molly
A pain shoots through the back of my head as I try to open my eyes, but they don't seem to cooperate no matter how hard I try.
“Baby,” I try to whisper, not knowing if anyone around me can even make out what I’m saying through the chaos. The sound of sirens bleeds into my head, making the pain start to pound even harder.
“Ma’am, you’re going to be okay. Just try not to move,” I hear someone say. The sound is so far away, but I can feel their breath against my ear like they’re leaning in to talk to me.
“Baby.” I try to say the simple word again, still not knowing if the words are leaving my lips. I try to lift my hand to bring it to my stomach.
“Ma’am, please try not to move,” the man says again. His tone is soft but firm.
I am trying, but it doesn’t seem to be working.
“The truck just came out of nowhere and I just grabbed her to pull her out of the way. I didn’t mean for us to come down on the ground so hard,” I hear another man say. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Sir, just step back.”
Voices start to mesh together, and I try to open my eyes again, but everything seems to be slipping away. The voices and the chaos echo as if far away, until blackness falls.
“That’s my wife!”
The bellow penetrates the darkness, the voice bringing me back.
“That might be the case, sir, but it’s my understanding—”
“If you want to keep your job, I wouldn’t finish that sentence, Doctor. Don’t think I’m not above buying this hospital and anything else just to fire your ass.”
“Phillip, calm down. This isn’t helping anything,” a stern female voice cuts in. She sounds just as familiar as the man…Phillip. The thought of his name sends a sweet warmth through my body, and I feel myself start to drift into the darkness again.
“God, I’m going to love doing this every day for the rest of our lives.” The man leans down, taking my mouth in a soft kiss. It’s lazy and sweet, like he has all the time in the world to kiss me. He pulls back, and his dark blue eyes scan my face. His coal-dark hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it, or maybe I have. “Still doesn’t feel real that we’re married.” He moves in a little closer, his bare legs tangling with mine.
His hand comes to my face, and I lean into it while his thumb traces my lips. I feel his other hand move under the blanket, coming to settle on my stomach.
“I’m not going to let you leave this bed all weekend. I’m going to enjoy every second of my new wife.” He takes my mouth again, and this time I push my tongue into his. No, I don’t want to leave this bed either.
There’s something about this man who is calling me his wife. He makes me feel safe, pushing away the darkness and filling it with him. I grip him tighter, wanting him closer. Needing to feel him against me. I’m lonely.
He can fix that, a voice whispers in my mind.
He pulls back and starts kissing down my neck. It feels like his mouth is everywhere, not leaving any part of me unkissed as he works his way down my body, stopping at my navel and licking around it. I feel myself smile down at him, and his eyes find mine.
A dimple forms in his cheek, the little bit of scruff on his face doing nothing to hide it. It makes my stomach flutter.
“You know.” His big hands come to my hips, gripping them firmly and holding me in place. Not that I had any intention of trying to get away from this man. He keep
s calling me his wife, and I’m on board with that. It feels right. He’s here, pulling me from the darkness. Bringing me back to life. “Maybe I already put my baby inside of you. I lost count how many times I came inside you.”
Baby.
The word makes heart jump, my eyes flying open.
Soft darkness fills the room, and I go to bring my hand to my stomach, but I stop when I realize I have someone else’s hand in mine. I look down to see a head of dark hair lying next to our joined hands. It’s the man from my dream. He’s even more massive in person, filling up the chair that he has pushed up to the hospital bed.
I can’t remember anything. Just the overwhelming need to know if my baby is okay.
He looks tired. His hair is messy, just like in my dream, but his face looks exhausted even in sleep. Dark circles are under his eyes. I look around the room. It’s clear I’m in a hospital, but it almost looks like a fancy hotel suite. I would think it was one, if not for the monitors beeping beside me.
My eyes snap to one of them, and I feel a lump form in my throat. It’s the baby’s heartbeat. I watch the green lines go up and down while paper spills out of the machine, keeping track of it all. Suddenly, I feel wetness hit my cheeks. The baby is okay.
I look back to the man holding my hand. The one who’s filled my dreams for what feels like forever. Maybe it has been forever, because those dreams are all I remember. And the baby. As if on cue, I feel a little flutter in my stomach, making more tears leak from my eyes.
I place my other hand over the spot where I felt it, wanting to feel it again, but I feel nothing. Rubbing my hand along my belly, I try to remember. What am I, four months or five months along? The bump is noticeable, even with the blanket over me.
I look back to the man still holding my hand and slowly pull mine from his grasp. I bring it to his hair, running my fingers through it. The action seems normal. Like I’ve done it a thousand times. The silky strands glide through my fingers.
“Molly,” he mumbles, a soft smile pulling at his lips, and it makes me wonder if I’m Molly. If he’s like the man in my dreams. If he’s my adoring husband. That’s all I can remember seeing: the perfect man who fills my world and makes the loneliness slip away.
Suddenly, he jerks up, making me jump in surprise. His chair falls back, hitting the floor with a loud crash.
“Molly.” The word comes from him likes it’s pained. I can’t read the look on his face as he looms over me. Jesus, this man is big. It’s like he keeps getting bigger and bigger.
His hand hits a button next to the bed, then he’s on me. His big hands cup my face as his mouth descends on mine, taking me in a soft yet firm kiss. He just holds himself there. Cupping my face as his lips press to mine like he thinks I might disappear.
He doesn’t pull away as I hear someone enter the room.
“Well, I see someone is finally awake.”
He pulls back, placing his forehead against mine for a moment, then pulling away, making room for the woman in purple scrubs.
“How are you feeling?” she asks as she starts to look over the machines, hitting a few buttons.
“Sleepy.” The word doesn’t come out like I except it to and I try it again. This time it comes out right. The man next to me grabs my hand like he can’t stop himself from touching me. The woman smiles at the action before shaking her head.
“How about your head? You hit it pretty hard.” She moves in closer, making me lean up to get a look. “You rattled your brain around a little bit, but I think you’ll be okay. You’ve been out for a little over twelve hours.”
“Is she going to be okay?” the man cuts in, his impatience clear. It’s like he’s on edge, and I can hear it in his voice.
The woman studies me for a second before pulling a pen out of her breast pocket. I make a note of her name badge. Dr. Josie Dixon.
She starts flashing the light in my eyes. “All the scans were clear. She just knocked herself out real good. Some people take a little longer to wake up sometimes. I think exhaustion had a little to do with hers.” She pockets the light. “Molly, do you remember what happened to you today?”
I shake my head, trying to recall, gripping the man’s hand tighter. The security of it makes me feel better.
“Do you know where you are?”
“At a hospital,” I supply easily.
“In what city?”
I just stare at her, trying to remember. I look to the man like he’ll give me an answer, but he just studies me, a look crossing his face and his jaw going hard.
“State?” she tries again.
I just shake my head, unable to make the connection.
“How about this man? Do you know who he is?”
“He’s my husband.” I smile up at him, but he doesn’t return it. He’s still just studying me.
“His name, Molly. Do you know his name?”
“No,” I whisper, turning to look back at the doctor, not wanting to see his face. What look might cross it when he finds out I have no clue who he is. Only a dream man. I want those looks back. The ones he gave me when we were wrapped up in bed together.
“We’ll run a few tests in the morning, but I’m sure it’s fine. You had a good fall. It will come back to you,” she says, sounding so sure.
“You’ll run them now.” The man’s voice is so commanding, my head jerks back to look at him as he glares daggers at the poor doctor.
I squeeze his hand, making him look down at me and his face changes, softens.
“The baby.” I don’t want to do any tests right now. I just want to fall back asleep even after apparently being asleep for twelve hours. But I will for the baby, I will do whatever is necessary.
“He’s doing just fine.”
“He?” I pull my hand from my husband’s, bringing it to my belly, wanting to feel him move again.
“It’s a little boy. You look to be about four-and-a-half months pregnant. He’s actually a little big. I’ll need to get the records from whatever doctor you were seeing just to double-check some things.”
I have no clue who my doctor is. I don’t even know where I am. I look up at my husband.
“Can you get them for her?” I ask, knowing he would know where to find them.
“I’ll have it handled.” His words are flat, and I can’t help but feel a coldness to them, making suspicion flare to life.
“All right. Why don’t you get a little more rest and I’ll be back first thing in the morning?” With that, the doctor leaves.
“I, ah…” I suddenly feel awkward. “I don’t know your name,” I finally get out, and I peek up at him through my eyelashes.
He picks up the chair that he’d knocked over, righting it and sitting down beside me. Leaning forward, he takes my hand once again and brings it to his lips. The gesture is sweet, making me smile. I can’t get a feel of him. He seems to be all over the place, but maybe it’s me. I’m not thinking clearly.
“Phillip,” he says, dragging his lips across the back of my hand. I think I feel his tongue come out for a second, like he’s tasting me, but it’s gone before I even realize it’s there.
“Phillip.” I say his name, leaning back in the bed, my eyes starting to close. “Please don’t leave me. It’s lonely without you,” I mumble as I drift off to sleep, feeling his other hand come to my tummy.
“We’ll never be apart again,” he responds in a dark tone as I slip under.
Chapter Seven
Phillip
I slide my hand under the blanket and then under her hospital gown, placing my palm on her stomach over the small bump. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to reassure myself that everything is okay.
When I was thirty minutes away from where Molly placed the call to Cindy, I got a call telling me she was in the hospital. From what I’d heard on the phone before the line went dead, something big had happened, but I pushed the thought away, refused to believe that something had happened to her when I’d just finally found her af
ter all these months.
Just when she was about to head back to the city. Maybe not home, but to Cindy, and she had to know she wouldn’t have made it one foot into New York without my knowing she was there. I would have been on her instantly.
Everything else happened in a blur. When I came flying into the hospital making my demands, they’d tried to keep her from me. They were lucky she was in the hospital or I would have burned the motherfucker to the ground just to prove how serious I was about getting to her.
It didn’t take long before they got the point and attitudes started to change. I don’t like to push power and money around on people, but in this case I just couldn’t bring myself to care. There wasn’t a goddamn thing I wouldn’t have done in that moment to get to her.
Then when they’d told me she’d be okay, I felt like something was finally working for me. That I’d gone through enough and the powers that be were finally cutting me a break. Then they dropped the bomb. “And the baby,” the doctor had said. The roar in my ears was so loud I didn’t even hear what she said after that. I’d had to ask him to repeat himself.
If I hadn’t been sitting down, I’m sure I would have hit the floor. And the baby. The words keep circling through my mind. If something happened to our baby, it would destroy Molly. That’s something I could be certain of.
I rub my hand along the bump, feeling her breathe in and out.
I still remember when Molly told me that she wanted a family. At first, I’d just wanted her. The thought of filling her with a baby made the words tumble out of my mouth. I said I wanted one, too. At first, my desire was to tie her to me on every level I could. If we had a baby, I would always be in her life. I would be tied to her forever. The more she talked about it, the way she pictured and dreamed of it, made me want it, too. More than anything. Just another way she’d woken me up to life.
I should have been with her. Laid in bed every night cupping her little round belly and feeling it grow each day. It was what we both wanted and why none of this makes any sense. I can’t understand why she ran, and now I can’t even ask her. She doesn’t remember.