Reclaiming His Wife

A hand cups my jaw, tilting my head up. My eyes lock onto his smoke dark ones, and before another second when I’m not kissing him can pass, I throw myself into him. Our lips crush together, the wind rushing out of me as he kisses me unlike any kiss I’ve ever felt before. He growls into me, taking my mouth and claiming me as his own. Like the kiss is a brand that marks me as his and his only.

Russell kisses me hard and deeply, bruising his lips to mine as I hug him as tight as I can. Our tongues roll together, our hands clutch at each other, and our bodies grind together, like we’re trying to actually blend ourselves into one. I pant into his mouth, and when his hands tighten on my waist, I moan softly. One hand slides down to my ass, cupping me through the gauzy white dress as I moan deeply into his lips.

I gasp as he whirls me, pushing us back until my ass presses to the bike. His groans deepen, muscles coiling against me. And when I press into him and feel the thick hardness bulging against my belly, I whimper louder, kissing him feverishly as the fire blazes to life inside of me.

I haven’t touched a man in five years. And now the only one I ever wanted to touch, or to have touch me, is right here, right now, doing just that. Heat floods through me, pooling between my legs and I moan into his mouth. His hands yank at my wedding dress, tugging it up in the back as his hand slides beneath to run over my bare thigh. I cry out into him, feeling his fingers slide up the back of my leg, over the little crease of my ass, and to the edge of my panties.

…My very plain, very boring, cotton panties.

I blush. “If you were expecting lace or silk or something…”

He chuckles darkly. “I’m pretty fucking glad they aren’t, beautiful.”

“Russell, Darren…”

His face darkness as he shakes his head. “I was gone, Jules. You thought I was dead. I can’t be mad at—”

“No, you need to listen to me.”

It all spills out of my mouth—the financial trouble of my dad’s company, and the deal with Darren and his father. The fact that I’ve never ever touched him.

…Or any man, since.

He growls at that last part, a fire blazing in his eyes as he kisses me bruisingly and punishingly, taking my breath away as I get lost in him. Slowly, I pull away, tears brimming my eyes.

“Darren—”

Russ’s eyes narrow, his brow darkening fiercely.

“He’ll pay,” he hisses savagely, raw flame blazing in his eyes.

“I want him to,” I spit back, fury burning its way to the surface inside of me. “I want him to pay so fucking badly for what he’s done.”

“And he will, beautiful,” Russell groans. “But first? First comes you. Always.”

His mouth crushes to mine, stealing my breath away just like he’s just stolen me from my own wedding. I moan into his lips, hands sliding over his perfect, chiseled body through his clothes. Russell groans, his hands gripping my ass tight as he lifts me, making me squeal into his mouth. He grunts, fingers digging into my skin, his thick bulge throbbing between my thighs as my dress bunches around my waist. He swings a leg over the bike, settling down onto it with me astride his hips, and I moan softly as I settle into him.

His hands shove my dress up to my waist, making me shiver at the pure, unbridled intensity. His body trembles, his hands fierce as they slide up my thighs. His fingers run over the edge of my plain panties, instantly making them soaked with my honey as I kiss him hungrily. He runs a knuckle up and down my seam, making me whimper into him, my hips bucking as I feel hands other than my own touching me for the first time in five years.

He sucks my tongue between his lips as his thick knuckle pushes into me, getting me positively soaked as he groans into my mouth. His fingers tease to the edge of those panties again, and this time, he tugs them to the side, making me whimper in pleasure. His hand turns, his palm and fingers pushing down over my bare, slick lips. I cry out when he drags back up, one finger parting my lips and teasing over my opening to bump over my clit.

“I’ve wanted this every fucking day, beautiful,” he groans into my mouth. “I’ve dreamt of putting my hands on you, and feeling your softness, and how fucking wet this tight little pussy gets for me.”

“Only for you,” I gasp, clinging to him as he pushes his finger back down my lips. He groans, and when he eases his middle finger into me, I crush my lips to his once again. Russell eases the finger inside, making me gasp at how fucking tight it feels. I joked before about being a virgin again after five years, but now, with him, it almost feels real. It feels like I’ve never felt anything there, and as his big finger pushes into me, I cry out as the pleasure floods through me.