The Rejected Wife: Chapter 59

‘Thank you.’ I turn to my husband.

‘For what?’

‘I know how incredibly hard it must have been for you to stop yourself from turning her into the police. But you did the right thing. We did the right thing. It’s best to engage with her and explain our point of view to her. And as she said, she doesn’t want to take Serene from us.’

‘No, she only wants a relationship with Serene,’ he points out.

I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. ‘I realize that. And believe me, it’s difficult not to feel threatened by that.’

‘You shouldn’t be. You’re my wife and much more than Serene’s biological mother. You take care of her. And you care for her.”

‘She did give birth to her.’

‘And you thanked her for that. Which I think is part of what she needed to hear. But you’re the one who’s here for her, day in and day out. A parent isn’t defined only by who gave birth to a child, or even who donated the genetic material. We’re her parents because we’re the ones who see to her needs and love her.’ Tyler gathers me close. ‘Are you okay?’

I nod.

‘Are you really, okay?’ He peruses my features closely. The way I love. The way it makes it feel like I’m the cynosure of his life. The focus of his attention. Serene will always be first, for both of us. But I’m right there with her when it comes to having my husband’s attention. And I thank the universe and the fates every day for having brought him and my daughter into my life. And for having brought us into his life on the same day.

‘I’m more than okay,’ I cup his cheek. ‘I’m in love with you.’

He stills.

‘I love you, Tyler. So very much.’

His eyes gleam. Something like relief flashes in his eyes and is replaced with that look which is a combination of love and devotion and lust, all rolled into one. To be desired for how I am. For more than my body. For who I am. For my mind. My emotions. My soul. It’s an all-encompassing, unselfish love which feels huge and monumental and never-ending. And when I bite down on my lower lip to stop my emotions spilling over, his gaze is drawn there. Just like that, the air between us heats. The desire never far from the surface bubbles over.

Oh God. I’ll never take this…carnal need I have for him, this draw toward him, this animal attraction which binds us together, for granted. With a low noise he pulls me into his lap, then kisses me deeply. Our lips fuse together. Our teeth clash. His tongue tangles with mine. I’m burning up, my skin on fire. My core is so wet, surely, I’ve stained my clothes. I wind my arms about his shoulders and hold on as he devours me. The kiss is everything I’ve dreamed of. It’s as if confessing my love for him has added another dimension. The way he holds me is more possessive. More tender. The way he kisses me is both more demanding and gentler. The way my body molds itself to the planes of his feels charged with this growing craving to have him inside of me.

‘I love you so fucking much,’ he growls into my mouth. Then kisses me all over again. My breath grows choppy. My head spins. The sensations crowding my body and my soul are overpowering. I⁠—

Someone clears their throat.

I flush to the roots of my hair. I try to pull away, but Tyler doesn’t let me. He continues to kiss me. But I’m very aware that Brody or Connor must have walked into the study. Summer left earlier, and Tyler’s brothers took charge of putting Serene to sleep.

I almost forgot they were here.

‘Uh—Serene wanted to say goodnight to both of you before she falls asleep,’ Connor murmurs from somewhere in the direction of the entrance to the room.

This time, when I pull away, Tyler lets me. He groans and pushes his forehead against mine, seemingly for support. His massive chest rises and falls. The musky scent of his skin is laced with desire. I take another deep breath, storing it to tide me over, then push off of him and to my feet.

‘I… Uh… I’m going to Serene.’

Tyler slumps back against the couch. ‘You go ahead. I’ll be there as soon as I, uh…put myself to rights.’

I take in the tent at his crotch and stifle a chuckle. Then walk past Brody, who’s walking back toward the study, presumably after having seen Lauren to the door. ‘Kiss Serene goodnight from me,’ he says.

I nod, then take the steps up to Serene’s bedroom, my cheeks still on fire. By the time I walk into Serene’s room, I’ve managed to get myself together. Serene’s under the covers, clutching her favorite soft toy, a bedraggled dinosaur. When I sit next to her, she opens her eyes. ‘Mommy.’ She smiles.

‘I’m here; go to sleep, baby.’ I kiss her forehead.

She sighs, then rolls over onto her other side, still clutching the doll. I push her hair back from her face. This burst of activity is typical for her. I’ve learned it signals that she’s comfortable and ready to go to sleep. Still clutching her toy in one hand, with the other, she grips my hand and tucks it under her chin.

My heart swells. Warmth coils in my chest. That absolute trust she places in me is humbling. It makes me want to take care of her. Makes me want to do everything in my power to protect her. Makes me wonder… How could Lauren have given her up? Makes me realize, she must have been very scared by the situation she found herself in. Enough to break so many rules to track down Tyler, then go so far as to walk away from her own daughter. The thought of it is incomprehensible to me.

It makes me so grateful that I found her and Tyler all over again. I bend and kiss Serene’s forehead, staying with her for a few more minutes as her breathing deepens.

Then, I rise to my feet, turn, and still. He’s propped one arm against the doorframe, with his broad shoulders taking up most of the space.

He looks from me to his daughter’s face, then back at me. There’s so much warmth and tenderness in his eyes, it flips my stomach. That feeling of knowing my husband loves me is the most incredible, most comforting feeling in the entire world.

‘She fell asleep before you could wish her goodnight,’ I whisper unnecessarily.

His lips quirk. ‘I can see that.’ With his other hand thrust into his pocket, he straightens. His hair is tousled, softening the strong planes of his face. His shirt has a few buttons open, enough for me to see the demarcation of his pecs. The planes of his chest stretch the shirt and the rest of the buttons. Then, there’s the way he’s folded up the sleeves of his shirt. It exposes his hair-roughened, veiny forearms, and oh God, the sight is like sex-come-to-life. He’s sex-come-to-life. Adonis and Eros combined. An erotic dream. He’s hot and dominant and has such presence, he takes my breath away.

Heat flushes my skin. Sparks simmer in my bloodstream. I take a step in his direction, and they turn into little tendrils of fire. He watches me closely, not moving as I float toward him. The very air between us turns into a lasso of need. It settles around my shoulders and tightens with every inch I close between us.

My pussy clenches. My stomach stutters. My nipples are so hard, I’m sure he can see them through my blouse.

I stop in front of him, and he looks down at me from his great height. He must have stopped to wash the colors off of his face, for some of the strands of hair lining his forehead are wet. And his face is free of colors. Mostly.

‘You missed this.’ I reach up and rub off a dab of color at his temple. The skin of his face is cool—as a result of washing up, no doubt—but the rest of his body feels like a furnace. A cloud of heat spools off of him and crashes into my chest. I gasp. My head spins. His nearness, his scent, the sheer force of him presses in from all sides.

Combined with that tender look in his heterochromatic eyes, it’s more potent than an aphrodisiac. I begin to withdraw my arm, but he catches my wrist, presses it close to his cheek, then he turns his face into the palm of my hand and kisses it.

I shiver. The touch of his lips on me alerts every single nerve ending in my body. And when he drags his five o’clock-shadowed chin against the soft skin in the center of my palm, every pore in my body seems to open with need. I make a soft sound at the back of my throat, and he snaps his gaze on me.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he says in a low, hard voice that shivers over my skin, draws more moisture from my core, and makes my toes curl.

‘So are you,’ I whisper.

He chuckles. And the sound is so sexy. So male. So, everything. I go up on tiptoe, push myself closer to him. He plants his big hands on my hips and hauls me up, so my feet lift off the floor. I wrap my legs around his waist, so my core is pressed into that thick column at his crotch. He feels so hard, so heavy, so perfect… My throat closes. My mouth dries.

At the same time, I’m so wet between my thighs, I’m sure I’m staining his pants. He slides his hands down to cup my butt cheeks, and a ripple of delight runs up my spine. I never imagined that part of my body could be so responsive, but whenever he touches me, wherever he touches me, it turns my entire body into a miasma of sensory delight.

He turns away from our daughter’s room, managing to pull the door shut behind him. Then he walks to our bedroom, kicks the door shut behind us and drops me on the bed.

I bounce once, looking up at him in shock and bemusement. It quickly turns to delight when he first, straightens the cuffs of his sleeves, undoes a few more buttons, then reaches behind himself. In one smooth move which has his biceps bunching, he pulls off his shirt.

I stare greedily at the expanse of skin, the dog tags in the dip between his pecs, the tattoos. I run my fingers over the roman numerals. The date I met him. The date I first saw my daughter.

He toes off his shoes.

The clink of his belt buckle, and the r-r-r-i-p of his zipper being lowered sends a flurry of anticipation up my spine. He shucks his pants, his briefs and his socks in one go. When he straightens, his heavy cock juts out from the thatch of neatly trimmed hair. I know how that feels against my skin. His shaft is a work of delight. Crafted with great precision, it’s beautiful, gorgeous, and tastes so good. Like it’s mine. Like he’s mine. He stands, elbows tucked at his sides, allowing me to look my fill. Then, he walks over to stand in front of me.

‘Touch me,’ he orders.

I need no further prompting. I wrap my fingers around his throbbing dick. When he groans, a flourish of satisfaction, of power, surges through me. I bend, closing my mouth around the swollen crown.

‘Fuck.’ He bunches my hair away from my face, holding it back. I look up to find him staring at how my lips are wrapped around his dick. I hold onto the outside of his thighs, then dip my head and close my mouth around his cock.

‘Jesus,’ he swears.

My jaw already aches, but the look of absolute rapture on his features is worth it. I pull back, until he’s balanced at my lips, then once again, angle my chin. I take him down my throat.

‘Bloody hell.’ Holding my hair back with one hand, he wraps his long, thick fingers around my throat from the back. The tips meet, so I’m wearing them like a necklace—or a collar. Like I belong to him. I do belong to him.

‘I love you.’ The sound emerges muffled. He must understand what I mean though, for the look in his eyes turns even more possessive. And more tender. And more dominating.

‘I can feel my cock down your throat. Do you know how much of a fucking turn on that is?’

He squeezes gently, not enough to hurt me or cut off my air, but with the right amount of pressure for me to feel every individual finger of his against my throat. With his dick blocking my windpipe, I should feel like I’m choking, but instead, I feel like I’m possessed by him. I feel weighed down by his presence. I feel grounded, like I’m wrapped in a weighted blanket. And with his gaze on me, being at the center of his focus, I feel strangely secure.

Tears leak from my eyes, and I try to breathe through my nose.

He tugs on my hair enough for me to release my hold on his cock. Then, he takes control and begins to steer me. Without removing his fingers from around my neck, he maneuvers me back and forth, back and forth, so his cock slips out then back in, then again. He takes charge so seamlessly, with so much confidence, I have to hold onto his thighs for support. Each time he slips down my throat, he fills me up in an imitation of how his cock would feel inside my pussy.

My core clenches, and moisture pools between my legs. My nipples are so hard, my breasts so heavy… His gaze holds mine, the connection growing stronger. More intense. The air between us grows heavy with our chemistry. It pushes down on my shoulders, causing sweat to pool under my armpits. Causing my thighs to clench, and my toes to curl. I’m so turned on, I know I’m going to come any second.

As if he can read my mind, he releases his hold on me and pulls out. He applies just enough pressure on my shoulders, that I lay back. He unfastens my jeans and pulls them off, along with my panties. Then, wraps his fingers around my ankles and pulls them apart. He stares at the flesh between my thighs so intently, a blush swooshes up my body.

‘Tyler,’ I protest. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Looking at my pussy, do you mind?’ Then he drops to his knees, throws my legs over his shoulders, and lowers his face to the tender flesh.