Mr and Mrs

Chapter Nine Molly

I let out a squeal as I’m grabbed, turned, and pushed softly up against the wall outside our bathroom. Phillip’s big body cages me. The morning light floods the bare white walls of the bedroom and my husband’s face is illuminated by the golden glow. He looks almost savage, his hair wild. I probably had a hand in that as I’d twisted my fingers in his hair not so long ago. I’d woken with him fully wrapped around me like a second skin, one hand protectively on my belly, the other cupping my sex, his face buried in my neck.

The last thing I remembered was his mouth on me before I passed out. I had a vague recollection of him saying he was going to make me something to eat, but I must have slept through the rest of the day and night, only waking because I had a crazy need to go to the bathroom. The baby was already pushing on my bladder, or maybe it was the fact that I’d slept twelve hours.

But what has me catching my breath is the wild look in his eyes. Almost like he’s a predator and I’m his prey. He’d caught me easily, not that I would give him a fight. The look is intense, and I wonder if he always looks like this. I also wonder if he always keeps his facial hair a little long like this or if it’s just because of all the time we spent at the hospital, when he refused to leave my side to even shave.

I reach up, running my fingers through it. I like it. He leans into my touch, his eyes falling closed like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt in his life.

“I thought you were gone,” he finally says in a gruff voice.

“I’m right here.” I try to reassure him. “Just had to go to the bathroom.”

His forehead drops to mine, and we just stand there for a few moments until his hands finally drop from the wall, landing on my waist. Then he does something I don’t except. He falls to his knees in front of me, taking me by surprise.

“Yes, you’re right here. You’ll never leave me.” His big hands slide under the long shirt I have on, and he starts pulling down my underwear. When they reach my ankles, I step out of them.

“Say it,” he commands, all that intensity coming through in his words, coating the air around us.

“I’ll never leave you.” I see the tension visibly leave his body.

“Show me. Show me what belongs to me.”

I bite my lip, feeling a little embarrassed. I know he wants me to lift my shirt, to show him my vagina or my baby bump, I’m not really sure. I know he’s my husband and that we have of course done these things before, but with him on his knees in front of me, demanding it…it’s dirty and hot and I can feel heat reach my cheeks.

I do it. I want to give this to him. I can tell he’s on edge. If there is anything I’ve learned about this man in the past few days, it’s that his world seems to begin and end with me. It’s like I’m his everything and I have this way of calming him down with little touches. It’s an intoxicating feeling.

Slowly I reach down and grab the hem of the shirt and start to raise it. Inch by inch it slides up my thighs, his eyes following the path until I finally reveal my pussy.

“More,” he demands, and I keep going all the way past my little baby bump. “Spread your legs farther apart.”

Taking a small step, I open myself up to him.

“Say it again. Tell me you belong to me.” His hands come up, pushing my shirt even higher and revealing my breasts to him. He drags his fingers across my nipples, making them even harder. Then they trail down to my stomach as his other hand continues to cup me. “Who does all this belong to, sweet little Molly?”

“It’s yours.” I push myself into his hand between my legs. His making me tell him I belong to him is doing things to me. I can feel the moisture flood between my thighs.

“Show me where you want my mouth. Open it for me.” His eyes land to my pussy, and he has to lean down a little. He's so tall that even on his knees he almost comes up to my breasts.

Using one hand to hold up my shirt like he asked, I slide the other down my body. When I get to the juncture of my thighs, I spread the lips of my sex for him.

His eyes fill with so much passion and need I almost don’t see him move. His mouth descends, sucking my clit into his mouth, making me moan. I rise up on my toes, wanting him to be able to have as much access as possible.

“That’s it, Molly. Fuck your husband’s face. Take what you want because I’ll always give it to you. I like you just as needy as I am,” he growls against me before going back to sucking and licking. His tongue licking my fingers and my sex simultaneously makes it that much more erotic. I’m holding myself open for him to consume me. And he does.

Both his hands move to my hips, his fingers digging into the flesh in a firm possessive hold. I know he has me and I can let the pleasure take me. This man will catch me and I will let him.

The orgasm shoots through my body, making me scream out his name. My head falls back, my eyes closing as the sensations flow through my body. I feel him move, but I’ve lost the power to open my eyes.

He lays me out on the bed, and I manage to open my eyes to see him caging me once again. I’m starting to see a pattern with this man. It makes me smile.

Then I look down and see what he’s doing. He has pulled himself out of his boxer briefs and he’s stroking himself. It doesn’t take but a few strokes and I feel his warm cum hit my mound. I wish I would’ve looked sooner and gotten to see him stroke himself more.

He moans my name as he continues to cum, more spurting out as his strokes slow down. Then with the head of his cock, he starts rubbing the moisture into my skin. The sight is the hottest thing.