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“Okay.”
I push, my cock hardening at the sight of Etta swallowing up the plug. She moans deeper as I finger her whilst the vibrator does its job. “Halfway,” I say. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” she gasps as it continues to slide in. “It’s so weird.”
“Almost there.” One more push and it slides in. I kiss each of her butt cheeks as she wiggles her hips.
“That’s not so bad,” she says, smiling at me over her shoulder.
Fucking proud and eager as shit, I bring her up, so her back is against my chest. I take control of the vibrator and make slow circles, pressing hard into her clit. Etta whimpers, holding onto my arms that cross her chest and stomach. I kiss her neck and suckle hard enough to leave a bruise. Then, when I feel she’s riding close to the edge, I turn the vibrations off, ignoring her protests, and force her back down onto her hands. I sheathe myself inside of her in one long thrust.
Etta’s elbows collapse from the pleasure. She falls into the nearest pillow face first, pressing herself harder against me. The plug stays inside of her ass as I fuck her, slow and sweet. Desperately, she reaches for the vibrator and places it on her sensitive clit.
“Oh, fucking hell,” she cries as she gets hit at every pleasurable point. I make it good for her the best way I know how. Following her breaths and the tiny muscle spasms, I thrust into her till I’m sweating, balls hitching high. I press my thumb to the end of the plug and pulse it inside of her to the same rhythm as my hips. Her pussy squeezes me like a vise, as tight as a fist and twice as hot.
“I’m coming, oh my God, I’m coming,” she exclaims. I laugh when I hear the sheer panic and excitement in her voice. “Oh, shit, Odin. Keep going.”
My name from her lips sends me tumbling, but not before I wring every last second of her orgasm out of her. “Come on, baby.” I grab her hips and thrust into her as deep as I can while she comes and comes and comes. She’s making those choked, overwhelmed noises that I’m obsessed with as she rides the wave of ecstasy unleashed under her skin.
From my position, I see her eyes flutter close, her lips curl into a satisfied smile when she finishes, and that causes me to erupt. I moan and grunt and curse as I come. My vision is stained white around the edges and my release is hotter than lava as I finish deep inside my wife.
Etta is a puddle of limbs once we both finish. I take the plug out as smoothly as I can, then I pick her up into my arms and take her to the bathroom. Her head lolls to the side; she’s so content. “Let’s have a quick shower and then we can watch the movie.”
“Okay,” she mumbles. I know for a fact she won’t watch the movie. She fell asleep in the last two and I finished them on my own. In the morning, she pretended it didn’t happen and argued that she watched them all. I filmed her snores during New Moon as evidence.
But despite that, I would do it every night for a long time if it meant she was happy. If she was safe. I don’t think I’ll ever sleep soundly again, but if Etta does, then it’ll be worth it. Everything in my life will be worth it. Because my wife is becomingmylife and everything else seems irrelevant now.
Everything else doesn’t matter anymore.
It’s the middle of the night, and like I suspected, I can’t sleep.
Etta is dreaming deeply; her expression blissful. Turned over onto her side, my body tucked behind hers, I stroke her hair and count her breaths. Each one is as special as the last. And I don’t want to miss any of them. I don’t want to think about whether or not they’re numbered.
My phone rings from its place on the bedside table. I let it go unanswered. I don’t want to leave her side just yet.
It rings again.
Weary and pissed off, I place a kiss on Etta’s temple and roll over to pick it up. It’s a number I don’t recognize. But the American area code urges me to answer.
“It’s the middle of the fucking night,” I say, keeping my volume low.
The voice on the other end is neither startled by my rudeness, nor annoyed. “My apologies for interrupting your honeymoon, Mr. Bolt. But we didn’t really get a chance to talk after the wedding.”
“Should I be calling you Henry or Leo?”
“Henry will suffice. Leo is buried in the past.”
Sighing through my nose, I open up the balcony doors and head out into the night to listen to whatever Henry Martin has to say. “This better be good.”
“For your sake, I hope it is, too.” From the silence on the other end, it’s obvious Martin is somewhere private. He clearly has something of importance to say. And if he does, then it’ll have to be quick. I haven’t changed phones since I got here. Cerbera might have tapped it by now.
“Go on.”
“The DEA is aware of your plans to control the Lombardos, Mr. Bolt. That’s why I was sent undercover to monitor them. As much as I appreciate your determination, I believe there might be a better way to achieve your plans.”
“Like?”
He has the balls to ignore my question and pose another. “Have you been enjoying your time with your new wife?”
