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Hell, I was growing hard again and this was really not the right time. I didn’t want to scare her again.
“We will talk about this in the morning. Try to get some sleep now,” I said before hightailing it out of the room.
Once inside the sanctuary in my bedroom, I took my clothes off and jumped in the shower. I had it all: money, power, and the most beautiful woman who was now petrified of me. Thinking about her just lying there all wet and sweaty was driving me insane. My dick was throbbing and couldn’t help imagining her lips around it, sucking me off slowly. I turned on the water.
I stepped inside and took my stiff cock in my hand. Nothing was going as I planned.
The water was piping hot, but I didn’t care. I released a loud groan, massaging my shaft while thinking about her sweet pussy the way I remembered it—all mine—and saying her name out loud. I imagined her running here from her bedroom, opening the door, and just watching me touching myself. Her blue eyes wide, her lips parting on a moan, her face showing desire. For me, only me. Reaching out to hold on to the shower wall, I kept on stroking my dick while water poured down over my head and back. I envisioned her trailing her hand down between her breasts, saying my name in the most sensuous of tones, and asking if I needed help.
I massaged my dick, recalling that time when I first brought her to the penthouse. I caught her on screen touching herself in her room, looking straight at the camera and knowing that I was watching her. I’d never been so turned on in my life.
“You make me do things I’d never imagined doing before,” she whispered in my dreams, then slid her hand down under her skirt, closing her eyes and letting out a loud moan.
“Fuck, what are you doing to me, woman?” I growled, watching her through the shower doors as she stroked her clit. Before I knew it, I was coming in my hand, my semen spraying everywhere as the hot water beat my back.
This was pathetic. I owned several sex clubs, so I could get any woman to blow me off and yet, I couldn’t fucking do it. Marinka was the only one for me—and the one woman who wouldn’t let me touch her. Yet.
I stood in the shower for a moment after I cleaned up, breathing in and out. In and out. The whole bathroom was steaming. At least, that was comforting.
I put the towel around my waist and stepped outside the stall, then exited the bathroom.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t sleep,” the voice startled me and I fucking dropped my towel as I switched on the bedroom light.
“Jesus Christ, Marinka, do you fucking want to give me a heart attack?” I asked, seeing her lying on my bed—our bed—clutching the covers up to her chin.
“Cover yourself,” she said, going red in the face.
I didn’t miss how she fleetingly checked out my dick. That was when I realized I was fucking naked and my towel was on the floor. I smiled and picked it up off the floor. When I glanced back at her, I realised she was now staring at my still erect cock in earnest, for I purposefully kept the towel in my hand. Her lips parted and her hot gaze gave me hope.
“Do you like what you’re seeing, teacup?” I teased, hoping the nightmare incident was forgotten.
She cleared her throat and looked away.
“No, and stop calling me that. I hate it,” she replied.
I was hard again, all because of her, and since she came here on her own, maybe I should make her realize what she had been missing all this time. I finally wrapped the towel around my hips and took a few tentative steps towards the bed.
“Look at me, princess,” I said, my voice firm.
She swallowed hard and then did as I asked. She was so beautiful when she was shy.
“Why are you hard? Does this happen often?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and staring at my chest.
“Ever since you’ve been in the coma,” I revealed, and she frowned.
I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but fuck it. I couldn’t hide the fact that I had been thinking about her every second of my existence.
“You can’t be serious? I bet you have been with many women before me and you must have had someone who took care of all your needs while I was asleep,” she asked, sounding confused.
I leaned down on the bed, closer than I anticipated. Fortunately, she didn’t move and my face was only inches away from hers. I inhaled her scent, relishing it, letting it fill me with all the best memories of her.
“Because I didn’t want anyone else. You’re my fucking wife and I was loyal to you. That never changed,” I whispered.
Her throat moved as she swallowed hard. “Really?”
I took a deep breath. I was supposed to be transparent. I promised that to myself when she got shot: if she ever woke up, I’d decided, I’d always be honest with her.
And that meant showing her the hidden corners of my heart.
