The Killer's New Wife by Hamel, B. (uplifting novels .TXT) 📗

“I don’t know what I want,” I whispered.

“You do.” He reached out and moved my hand from the towel. A weak knot held it up above my breasts. “You kissed me back.”

“I was in shock. I think I still am.”

“Maybe,” he said, tilting his head, staring into my eyes. “All you have to do is ask me to stop. I’ll stop for you, Tara. But only if you tell me to.”

I bit my lip hard as he slowly unraveled the towel. It fell down to the floor and I stood there, cold and wet and naked before him, so exposed, so vulnerable. Ewan was big, enormous, and he could do whatever he wanted with me. I should’ve been terrified.

I was more excited than I’d ever been in my life.

He ran his fingers up my spine. His other hand touched my hip bones, then moved up my abs, and cupped my breasts. I let out a soft, supple moan as he teased my nipples, then moved his fingers up my throat to my lips. He slid them into my mouth and I sucked them gently, rolling my tongue around. He pulled them back out and his eyes were burning with desire.

When he kissed me, it felt like a firework exploded in my mind. He lifted me up off my feet, wrapping my legs around his waist, hands gripping my ass. He was impatient, but he carried me back to his bedroom as we kissed. He bumped against the wall, and he didn’t quite make it before he pinned me against the wall in the hallway. I unbuckled his belt, got the strange jeans off that didn’t smell like him while he took off the navy button-down. His torso was covered in thick ripples of muscle and colorful tattoos and I kissed his chest, then his lips, as his hand grabbed my hair.

I slipped both hands down into his boxer briefs and gripped his thick cock. I sucked in a shocked breath as he growled his pleasure. His fingers moved between my legs, my soaking wet slit dripping down my thighs. He teased me in wild, slow strokes and I nearly lost it right there, except he slowed me, brought me back down, and pulled me into the bedroom.

I got a quick glimpse of the furniture: dresser, nightstand, chair in the corner, and an enormous bed. The room was immaculately neat. He pushed me down onto the sheets and pulled me to the edge before spreading me legs wide.

I’d never felt so naked before as he ran his tongue along my slit, licking me wildly, lapping me up with abandon. I moaned and writhed and rolled my hips and let him take me with his mouth until I felt it, right there on the edge.

I begged him. I’d never begged before, but I begged him. “Fuck me, Ewan,” I whispered.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he said and pushed me back down. My legs opened for him, and he pressed himself against me, before sliding deep inside.

My back arched as his tongue rolled around a nipple. I gasped and my breasts shook as he fucked me slowly at first.

“From the first time I saw you, I wanted this,” he whispered in my ear. “And you can’t understand how much I need it. You kissed me in that bathroom, even after seeing what I am.”

“What are you?” I asked, digging my fingers into his muscular back as pleasure, pleasure, pleasure rocketed down my spine with each gorgeous thrust.

“A monster,” he growled. “A killer. And you still want to come into my bed.”

“Yes,” I gasped as he bit my lip, then my shoulder, then my nipples. “I don’t care what you are,” I moaned, as the pleasure kept building, faster and faster. “I don’t care what you think.”

“Because you want me to fuck you,” he whispered, his voice a rumbling groan in my ear. “You want this pleasure more than you realized. You need a man like me, a man that can take your body and keep it.”

“Yes,” I gasped, arching my back, and he kept going, faster and faster, and god, it was horrible and beautiful and waves and waves of excited intensity rippled through my skin. He bit my lip and held my hips and fucked me, my body rocking, and I couldn’t take any more.

I came in a burst of bright light. My moans escaped my lips and I had no control anymore. I didn’t want control. I wanted him, deep between my legs, over and over again. I came along his length and when I was done, when I was nothing more than a puddle of pleasure, putty for his play, he lay back on the sheets and stroked himself.

I took him in my mouth then and sucked his shaft until he came deep between my lips.

We lay tangled beside each other for a while. The night stretched out behind me like gossamer. I could barely keep hold of it. I saw flashes of the Healy man dying in the toilet, or Ewan kissing me, or Ewan coming home to pull my towel off. It all felt blurred and strange, and the only thing real was him, the hulking man beside me.

He pulled me close and held me. I shivered when he kissed my ear and whispered, “I’ll let you go, you know.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.” His eyes met mine, and I knew he wasn’t lying. “If you want to go, I’ll let you.”

“Don’t make me say it.” I buried my face in his chest.

But he pulled me back up toward him and kissed my lips. “I need to hear it.”

“I want to stay,” I whispered, almost choking it out.

“Good,” he said. “Because I’m not done with you.”

And he kissed me again, slow and long, taking his time. He began to stir a few moments later, and he pinned me down onto my back and spread my legs, and I knew