Blind Commitment
Page 2
With one hand, he found her mound—smooth and already wet with her lust. Sliding one fingertip between the lips of her plump slit, he toyed with her clit, moving his finger in circles for the duration of time it took for him to kiss his way back down her body. Kneeling alongside the bed, he tugged her hips closer and situated her legs on either side of his head. The scent of her here, in this place, was richer—warmer.
When he kissed the inside of her thigh, the muscle there bunched, alive silk rippling with strength. Turning his head, he nuzzled her mound. He knew from past experience what would send her spiraling over the edge, burning so fast and hot she’d be spent faster than a meteor streaking into the atmosphere, but he wasn’t in the mood for fast. He was in the mood to savor and tease every ounce of pleasure out of her wriggling form.
Slipping his tongue just barely into the wet heat of her, he reveled in her moan. She made a thousand different noises during sex, his little love. Some were almost angry sounding, demanding growls he found it hard not to answer. Others were pleading mews of noise, whispers of barely any sound drawn from the back of her throat when she threw her head back in submission. When he really drove her wild, she would scream her pleasure out as if trying to announce to the world that she’d found her climax. Some of the screams would be words, others his name, but the very best and his personal favorite of them would always be when she’d run out of words. When she could do no more than primal, animalistic noises that chimed free from her opened mouth like a chorus of satisfaction.
Although he’d planned to draw the moment out, the first taste of her drove him wild. Soon,
he’d suckled her clit between his teeth, flicking his tongue back and forth while wiggling his
fingertips deep within her clenching hole. She bucked up against his face, the sounds becoming less and less recognizable before her legs clamped down on his head.
Resisting his own desire to drive her higher again, to make her come twice on his face, he licked long strokes to soothe her and lap up the evidence of her passion. So sweet, the taste of his bride’s release on his tongue—finer than any wine and more delicate than the petal of the fairest rose.
When her legs unclasped from his head, their grip no longer trembling with the aftershocks of her climax, he climbed back up her body to grin down at her. Although he couldn’t see her face, he remembered it. Burned on the back of his eyelids like a tattoo, he could imagine the pink flush of her cheeks and the ripe redness of her lips—plumped because she’d no doubt gnawed them in her rising tension.
“I guess I can still preform in that capacity, anyway.”
He’d meant the words almost joking, but she took it as a challenge. When her hand captured his cock, he jerked in reaction. The woman knew how to touch him with a skill that eclipsed his sanity.
“We haven’t proved that yet, but we’ll get to that momentarily,” she told him.
“Will we?” he asked her, drawing her into another kiss.
Her hand stayed busy, gripping his dick and beginning the rhythm he’d taught her he liked in their early days together. He’d wanted her for so long, she might not realize her power, but he knew she could easily get him off with her hand alone.
She wasn’t satisfied with their position, breaking their kiss to roll until she could capture him in her lush lips.
He might have cried out at the sensation. Lord knew, stars burst in the blind center of his mind’s eye as the wet warmth of her mouth sucked him deep. As she swallowed and toyed with him, her fingers rolled his balls back and forth—a trick she knew drove him wild.
Reaching out, he located her hips and drew her close. Lifting one leg, he fastened his mouth on her clit again, determined to show her the same pleasure as she managed between his legs. His dick was so hard, it nearly ached with her constant upward sweeps followed by the almost exquisite agony of her downward stroke.
Her hips bucked against his face, and though he couldn’t see it, he could imagine the view of her wet pussy while she rode him this way. He didn’t even realize he jerked toward her touch until her nails dug into his hips—an added layer of pleasure pain to the mastery of her blow job.
Still, he wanted more than her mouth on his body. Refusing to cum, he pulled free of her, using his grip on her hips to find his way back up her nubile little body.
“I want you,” she whispered.
The plea was in her tone, the one he’d never been able to resist. He could no more deny this woman than he could stop breathing on command. “And I want you, my precious one.”
Without further delay, he spread her legs wide, knowing she liked the lack of control and knowing his own self-control wouldn’t last if she were able to writhe into him. Determined to control the pace—and therefore make her pleasure even greater—he used his fingertips to navigate the wet heat of her.
Up and down her sweet slit he stroked, pausing to torment the bud of her clit with two fingertips, before finding the waiting hole that seemed to beckon him inside. Palming his dick, he followed his other hand to that invisible entrance, seating himself between her legs in one fast thrust.
The wetness there welcomed him, a hot fist of home that shot pleasure into his spine and down to the soles of his feet. Gritting his teeth, searching for patience, he withdrew slowly—a delectable and flawless agony. Her soft gasps and the feel of her nails biting into his arms spurred him on, and he drove deep again, sinking into her warmth with a grunt. In moments, he’d lost the ability to reason, to think, past the dazzling darkness of her embrace. Jerking in and out of her, he heard the almost feral sound of his own breath and didn’t even care. He wouldn’t last much longer, the pleasure of her body spiraling him past sanity, past his own restraint.
Knowing that, he bent low, palming her breast with one hand and taking her in a kiss. Her legs dropped lower, driving their hips closer together and changing the angle of their connection, and she bit his lip as he bumped her clit with his body. Pulling back, though her kiss made him drunk and a little giddy, he managed to slip his hand between them to use the trick that sent her soaring fast. Swirling his fingers in a rough circle against her mound, he drove inside her with unrestrained force. In seconds, she screamed, nails scraping lines to tattoo him with her release, her voice going ragged as her body trembled around him.
One last thrust, one last moment of delaying his inevitable crisis, and then he toppled over the edge of reason. She caught him as he fell, shaking and sweating, a panting creature made of tiny spasms of muscle and licks of lingering fire which burned off the dead pieces of his soul.
God, she shattered him. She took his sanity, held it in her hand, and he gave her it and his heart willingly.
But, he thought with a smile, he’d pleased her well too. Her body still shook with the little remembered waves of orgasm, and her breath still wheezed out as unevenly as his own. While he ran his hands over the living and now sweaty silk of her flesh, she returned the intimacy. The warmth and peace in her touch transferred itself deep inside him, healing fragments of himself he hadn’t even realized were still bleeding wounds.
“I love you, my Mariana. It might be selfish to say so, but I don’t want you to leave me.” He whispered the confession close to her ear, surprised when a drop of wetness slid off her face to drop on his nose. “Are you crying again?”
“I love you, you big stupid asshole.”
His wife sniffled, and he rolled to find the bedside table. It only took him seconds of fumbling to find the box of tissues and pass one to her. She’d worked hard to ensure he’d be able to find his way around their home, even if the rest of the world remained impossible for him to navigate on his own.
Instead of teasing her past the tears, he stroked her face and whispered, “I made you something. Well, to be honest, I couldn’t be sure whether or not you’d stay with me…now that I’m like this, and—”
He jerked in surprise when she punched him. He’d literally not seen that one coming. Rubbing his arm, he scowled in
her general direction. “That was uncalled for,” he added.
“Says you,” she grumbled. “I vowed in sickness and in health, until death do we part. I was with you in sickness. You’re not sick anymore…well, other than in the head, but I signed on for that part when I took your name.”
Smirking up at her, he rubbed her thigh with one palm. “Do you want your present or not, wife? Because, as I was saying before you decided to abuse me—right after I pleased your body with great skill, I might add—I didn’t know if I’d give it to you. I figured if you left, I’d keep it for myself.”
She sniffled again, blowing her nose noisily, before moving again. He assumed she’d
thrown away the tissue. “Oh yeah? What changed your mind?” “You give really good head.”
She punched him again, and he grinned at her. It was probably a very goofy looking grin, but since he couldn’t see, he found he cared less about that sort of thing. He was happy. He didn’t care if she knew it.
“You knew I gave really good head. That’s not what changed your mind, smart ass.”
Leaning closer, he kissed her again, drawing out the kiss and ending it with a nip on her delicious bottom lip. “You’re right. That’s not what changed my mind.”
“Are you going to tell me or are you being a tease?”
“Impatient,” he whispered. With one hand, he slipped back into the haven between her legs to gently tease her clit again. “You’re always so damned impatient.”
She rewarded his efforts by breathing faster, the soft rush of air tickling the hair by his ear.
“Your gift is across the room, hidden behind the couch.” With a tug, he pulled her arm until she stood next to the bed with a grumble of complaint. “Go get it and bring it here before you open it.”
She bitched the whole way, his loving and devoted wife, but she retrieved the large, sheet wrapped canvas and brought it back to the bed. Capturing her wrist before she could unwrap it, he waited until she no doubt looked at him in curiosity.
“I mixed together equal amounts of acrylic modeling paste and heavy acrylic gel to create texture so that I could feel where I was painting. Once I had the structure set up, I added the color, but you weren’t here so I had to trust other eyes. Due to that, I’d like you to close your eyes before you look at this one.”
He could almost hear her scowl. “When did you have the time to do all that? And how can I
see it with my eyes closed?”
Lifting one hand, he covered her eyes, satisfied only when he felt her eyelashes brush his palm. “You’ll see it like I see everything nowadays, Mar. You’ll touch it. Trust me?”
Moments spun out between them, enough time for galaxies to be born and crumble to dust. Finally she laid her palm in his other hand. “I trust you,” she whispered. “I’ll always trust you, silly man.”
Swallowing hard, he released her hand and tugged the sheet free from the canvas. With one hand, he felt the bumps, followed them back to her wrist.
He lay his hand above hers at the bottom of the canvas and traced each line, from the toe up. Higher, up the graceful curve of her muscular legs. She liked to run, his Mariana, finding time every day for her morning jog.
Above that, the delicate swirl of her knee which led to the softness of her thighs. Having reacquainted himself with the silk of her flesh, he realized how much he’d failed to capture with his clumsy wielding of the small palette knife. Between her legs on the canvas, he made her pause to feel the petals of her womanhood, grinning to himself when her breath caught at the erotic nature of his art.
Flawless—the real woman’s waist led in a flawless swoop up to the curve of her breast, but his carving was a close, if imperfect, rendition of the real thing. Again, he heard the soft whisper of sound as he stroked her finger over the imitation nipple on the canvas, but he stretched her arm higher still—to the face, the delicate beauty of her precious face, and the curl of her alluring smile.
“It is beautiful,” she breathed.
“You can look now,” he told her, stroking his touch against her wrist to feel her racing pulse.
“I already saw it,” she answered. Then her mouth slanted across his as she climbed into his lap. “And I see you, my Figgy.”
She did. She always said he saw her, but she saw him. The sometimes emotionally unstable, always erratic, passionate man he hid from the world—she saw him. And she loved him.
“I love you, Mariana.”
Her lips curled against his, the same Mona Lisa smile he’d tried to capture on the canvas. “I
love you, too, husband.”
He decided perhaps he owed his wife another round of pleasure to prove just how much he loved her. With a shove, the canvas hit the floor and they fell into each other’s arms to create temporary, although very important, art of their own.
*The End*
Ab out the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author Virginia Nelson likes knights in rusted and dinged up armor, heroes that snarl instead of croon, and heroines who can't remember to say the right thing even with an author writing their dialogue. Her books are full of snark, sex, and random acts of ineptitude—not always in that order. Virginia loves to hear from her readers, so please feel free to contact her. You can find out more about Virginia at her website.
www.virg-nelson.com
Books for sale. Snark for free.
Other Books From this Author:
Standalone (Alphabetical)
Accidental Pirate
Back In Time
Catching Death
Clothing Optional
Dom of the Dead
Forever Devoted
Her Sexy Skunk
Hunting for Love
Hypnotist
Lips of Velvet
Penthouse Prince
Rumpling Riley
Rumors
Sugar on Top
Taming of a Sex God
Taking Control
Turn Me On
Wolf on a Leash
The Were, The Witch and The Baby
Anthologies/Box Sets
Just One Bite, Volume Two, Wolf Bait
Box of 21 1Night Stands, Dom of the Dead
Spank or Treat, The Elder Warlock
4 Sexy Snarky Tales: 4 in 1 Bundle
Under a Wolf Moon, Odd Wolf
Romancing the Wolf, Odd Mate
Non Fiction
Secrets of a Snarky Writer
Trending on the Toilet
Series (Alphabetical)
The Bond of Three Series
Taming Tabitha
Calling Caralisa
Riding Ripley
Fighting for Fiona
The Magical Series
Magical Curves
Magical Mayhem - Coming Soon
The Odd Stuff Series
Odd Stuff
Odd Melody
Odd Wolf
Odd Mate
Wicked Odd- Coming Soon
The Watkin’s Pond Series
Runaway Groom
While You Were Writing
Must Love Cake