Page 42 of Fractured Vows

I nod and set the water on the nightstand, making my way toward the bathroom.

“You’re not coming to bed?” Isla asks, the hint of vulnerability causing me to stop in my tracks.

Every night I’ve brought her to bed, thinking I was doing it against her will, but I did it anyway because I needed it. But does she need the closeness the same way I do?

“I’ll be right back,” I tell her.

And I am. Instead of stroking my cock like it aches for, I step into the spray of hot water, wash off the blood and whatever else from the day, before I dry off and move back into the bedroom.

My little spitfire is fast asleep when I pull her into me, and it takes everything in me to ignore the fact we’re both naked and I could be inside her in a second if I wanted to be.

I drift off with the knowledge that the woman in my arms has the power to destroy me and the realization that I don’t give a fuck.

The sun peeks through the partially open curtains, illuminating the sleeping angel against me. Her hair fans across the pillow, her skin glows in the sliver of light that hits it, and a small smile tips up the corners of her lips. The covers are long forgotten, leaving her completely at my mercy.

Her body is nestled against mine, and when I finally drag my eyes off her for long enough to check the time, I realize I slept later than I have in years.

I tuck her in tighter against me, allowing myself to explore her softness while she sleeps. My calloused fingers move over her curves, relishing in the softness.

I brush my fingers over her peaked nipples and bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from moaning when they pebble beneath my touch.

Jesus.

I feel like a teenager again. Like I’m touching a naked woman for the first time all over again. And it’s kind of like I am. Every woman I’ve fucked over the last decade has been just like that—a fuck. I rarely touched them for more than a few minutes to make sure they were wet enough for me. It’s been a long time since I’ve taken the time to explore a woman, and I’m going to have fun getting to know every inch of Isla’s body intimately.

I trail my hand down toward the apex of her thighs, gently parting them so I can reach her perfect pussy.

This time there’s no stifling the groan as my fingers move through her wetness. Even in her sleep she’s ready for me, and it takes every bit of willpower not to sink my cock into her right here and now.

But I want her to remember our first time.

I want her to know exactly what made her ache.

Touching her like this when she sleeps is risky when there’s so much to sort out between us, but having her naked and at my disposal is too much of a temptation for me to fight.

With my free hand, I squeeze my aching cock and grunt at the pressure. I was hard all fucking night. How could I not be when she was pressed up against me like I was her own personal electric blanket?

I run my hand up and down, desperate for even a little bit of relief when an idea enters my mind. A bad idea, but one I couldn’t stop myself from executing even if I wanted to.

I readjust us slightly until I can move the tip of my cock through her folds, and fuck if it’s not every single Christmas coming at once. She’s excruciatingly soft, and I barely stop myself from sinking into her heat. Consequences be damned.

But I refrain. Barely.

I move my hand up and down my length, not bothering to swallow my grunts while keeping the tip against her center. This is the most perfect form of torture.

My orgasm rushes toward me. The urge to slip the tip into her and cum inside her in the hope my seed will take root is almost too tempting, but I manage to shove down the possessive need to mark her in every way a man can.

I’ve never even fucked a woman without a condom, my wife included, but Isla is different. When I sink into her pretty pussy for the first time, there won’t be a barrier. I refuse to have anything between us, and she’s just going to have to get with the program.

The tingling at the base of my spine tells me I’m at the point of no return, and I bite down on the pillow to soften the roar as pleasure rockets through my body and my release coats her pussy, her thighs, and her stomach.

I’m a forty-year-old man. I’ve had a lot of orgasms. But never have I had a release that felt like it was tearing me apart while simultaneously putting me back together.

When I finally come back to myself, my orgasm beginning to settle, amber eyes are staring back at me with a mix of horror and arousal.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

ISLA

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