The Rejected Wife: Chapter 10

‘Mine,’ I growl. ‘You’re mine, baby. Mine to own. Mine to please. Mine to hold and cherish. Mine to possess. Mine to make love to all night long.’

‘Tyler,’ she says between gasps.

And hearing my name from her lips again causes goosebumps to crawl over my skin. My breath catches. My cock threatens to claw its way out through the crotch of my pants, and I grind it into that honeyed place between her legs so she can understand exactly how much it affects me.

‘Sweet girl, you have a way of surprising me that makes me your slave.’

I take in the flash of intelligence in her gaze, the blown pupils which tell me how aroused she is, the rosy tint which colors her cheeks, the rise and fall of those gorgeous tits, which invite me to suck on her nipples. Her body has been calling to mine in a way I can’t resist.

‘You’re mine, baby, you hear me. Mine. Now come for me, Cilla. Right now.’

Her body arches. She cries out as she climaxes. I continue to grind up against her as the aftershocks ripple through her. When she slumps, I gather her up in my arms and turn on my side with her. I keep my thigh between her legs to keep the slight pressure there, knowing that’s going to heighten her pleasure. For a few seconds, I stay with my woman in my arms. Holding her. Luxuriating in the soft give of her curves against my body. I run my fingers up her arm to her biceps, then back down to her wrist.

She shivers. ‘Tyler.’ The husky tone of her voice brings a satisfied curve to my lips.

‘Yes, baby?’

She looks up again. ‘You still haven’t come.’ To illustrate her point, she brings up her thigh until it rubs against the swollen tent at my crotch. Vibrations of shock race out from the point of contact. My cock lengthens further. Fuck, at this rate, I’m going to come in my pants. My balls are so swollen, I swear, they feel as heavy as mortar rounds. She begins to saw her thigh against the heavy column in my pants. My brain cells seem to ignite.

‘Jesus, woman, you’re killing me.’

Her lips curve in a sassy smile. She slides in and rocks her thigh against my bulging penis. I groan. I tighten my hold about her, throw my head back, and grit my teeth. I can’t come; not yet. Not until I’ve made her climax again. Her pleasure. Her satisfaction. Her gratification. That’s what matters most.

I draw on my reserves of strength and patience from deep inside. From the same place I turned to when I was on a mission and needed to find my focus. Only, what I felt serving my country seems secondary to this incredibly huge need inside me to serve my woman.

I block out my own craving and, with what feels like my final ounce of self-control, I sit up with her in my arms. All those years of training finally paid off—judging by the way she tenses in surprise when I pull it off without even loosening my hold on her.

‘Wow, you’re so strong.’ The words leave her mouth, and she makes a face. ‘Why does that sound so…cringe?’

I chuckle. ‘You’re not wrong. A hundred push-ups per day will do that to you.’

‘A hundred?’ She shakes her head. ‘I can barely manage five.’

‘We can train together. I’ll show you how to grow your endurance.’

‘Not sure I’d look forward to that.’ She scowls.

When I chuckle, she rolls her eyes. ‘You were kidding, weren’t you?’

‘I was trying to distract you. Raise your arms.’

She frowns, but unable to stop herself from obeying, she does as I ask at once. Damn, this need in her to indulge my desires as much as I ache to satisfy her feels like the last nail on the coffin of my bachelorhood. I can’t believe I’m thinking this way, but how can I stop when it feels so natural to envisage a future with her?

I grab at the hem of her blouse and pull it up and off. I toss it aside, and glance down at her the swell of her tits in her lacy bra. The dark shadows of her nipples are outlined against the fabric. My cock throbs as blood drains to my groin. Unable to stop myself, I bend and bury my face between her breasts.

She shivers, and when I lick into her cleavage, she groans. I wrap my thumb and forefinger around one nipple and pluck on it. She gasps, digs her fingers into my hair, and holds on.

I bring up my other hand, weigh her other breast, before squeezing down on her other nipple. ‘Oh, Tyler,’ she moans.

I raise my head, look into her lust-filled eyes, and tug on both nipples.

Instantly, she arches her back, pushing her breasts closer for my ministrations. I reach behind her, unhook her bra, pull it off, then cupping both her tits, I bury my face between them again.

She tugs on my hair, and the little shockwaves of pain zing down to my balls. Once more, I ignore the need to bury myself in her sweet pussy. Focus on her pleasure. Her rapture. Her fulfillment. I move my head and suck on her nipple. She quivers. I squeeze her tits together and move my head to suckle on her other one. I bite down gently on her nipple, and she cries out. I straighten, close my mouth over hers and kiss her deeply.

She responds avidly, opening for me. The candied taste of her sends a rush of dopamine through my bloodstream. It’s still not as sweet as the hallowed flesh between her legs. I need to see her naked.

I reach down, unfasten the button of her skirt, and lower the zip. When she raises her hips, I tug the skirt down her legs and pull it off along with her flats. Then I push her down on her back.

Giving myself only a second to admire her creamy thighs, I tug off her panties. Then, because I can’t resist, I bring them to my face and sniff.

‘You’re filthy,’ she cries. The embarrassment in her voice is tinged with lust.

I look into her eyes and respond, ‘Only for you, baby.’ I toss them over my shoulder, and when she tries to rise, I place my palm in the center of her body and push down. ‘Stay.’

She instantly subsides. And her ability to obey me without question tells me she trusts me. And that jolts my need to a fever pitch. Something snaps inside of me. I use the weight of my hand to hold her down while I slide down her body. I settle between her legs and stare at her pink swollen flesh.

‘What are you doing?” she asks on a gasp, but doesn’t try to close her thighs. Fuck if that doesn’t arouse me further. Give me a woman who revels in her sexuality. Who lives life to the fullest like me, and who grabs pleasure and enjoys it because she knows she’s worth it. The thought turns my cock to stone.

I drag my nose up the seam of her pussy lips. Her entire body shivers. I lick up and around her clit, and goosebumps pop across her belly.

‘Tyler. Please.’ She squirms under me.

I close my lips around the swollen bud and suck. She cries out. I throw her legs over my shoulders and, gripping her hips to keep her in place, I stuff my tongue inside her slit.