Page 111 of Saving Grace
“What does it say?” I asked nervously.
“It’s an ‘Il’and a small letter ‘m’.”
“Il miosomething maybe.” I instantly regretted my speculation for a feral look came over Matt’s face.
“In the shower,” he barked, and I obeyed.
He got in behind me, extending his arm to turn on all jets. The hot water scoured my skin in a cleansing mist. When Matt cupped my breasts, I stilled, suddenly feeling chilled. Shit. Maybe it was too soon.
“It’s me, gypsy,” he whispered in my ear as if sensing my withdrawal. “Just me.” He squeezed my breasts and pinched my nipples. I could feel his restraint and his hardness. His cock pressed at the small of my back. “Remember when I made you come in the shower?” I whimpered at the memory. “Think of that, babe.” He turned my neck so he could kiss me, and as he devoured my lips, he palmed my left breast while he lowered his right hand and fucked me with his fingers. Pleasure flamed deep in my belly, growing steadily. My mind couldn’t think past my husband’s fierce possession. He never stopped kissing me, swallowing my moans of ecstasy as I fell apart in his arms. As the shudders of my release left me, I lost Matt’s fingers and the shower turned off. He quickly toweled me dry and carried me out of the bathroom.
“Can’t risk you slipping on the tiles,” he muttered as more than two hundred pounds of pure man stretched on top of me. He lowered his head to feast on my breast, sucking the tip before swirling his tongue around the dusky nipple. He grew increasingly urgent, letting go of my boob and moving lower, kissing my belly button and then lower still.
My fingers dug into his hair. “Matt …” I moaned in desperate anticipation. He nudged my legs apart and dove right into my drenched core. He flicked my clit and ran his tongue up and down my slit. He drove me to my second orgasm, more intense than the first. Without waiting for me to come down, he climbed up my body, pushed my thighs further apart and slammed inside me.
“Only I get to taste you,” he growled as he pounded hard inside me. “Only I get to fuck you. Get me?”
“Yes,” I gasped, my body arching as he reached between us to finger my swollen bundle of nerves, triggering a less intense, but longer climax.
“Mine, Grace. You’re fucking mine.” And as I pulsed around him, I felt him swell and grow harder. He was close. His pumping turned erratic. “So sweet, so goddamned sweet.” His arms propping him up started to shake. I clenched around him and he let out a strangled groan as he shoved himself all the way inside me and came. Hot, jets of semen filled me. Matt didn’t stop thrusting and continued to pump until I milked every last drop from him.
“Mine,” he whispered before he collapsed beside me and dragged me on top of him.
Warmth and security blanketed around me. My husband had reclaimed me in every way.
CHAPTER FORTY
Two weeks later
Matt
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“Why all the secrecy?”
Matt glanced indulgently at his wife, grinning at the impatience written all over her face. They’d just come from the ranch where Doctor Ryan finally did an ultrasound on Grace’s belly. Although, he’d been so sure they’d be having twins, it turned out there was only one heartbeat. A very strong one at that. Two weeks ago, when the doctor informed them about the blood test results, she’d indicated a very typical pregnancy. This was good news as far as Matt was concerned. Grace never experienced morning sickness, and one wouldn’t suspect she was pregnant at all other than her voracious appetite that almost rivaled his own.
This past fourteen days had been difficult. This visit with Doctor Ryan helped lift the veil of grief that had hovered over them with the death of Roger. Troy was also on the mend, having been released from the hospital a week ago.
Things had moved fast on the prosecution of Hector Vargas. Matt accompanied Grace to New York to meet with the U.S. Attorney handling the former cartel kingpin’s case. She handed over the flash drive, leaving Troy’s name off the list. This happened six days ago. This morning, they’d received news that the evidence from the memory stick could be used, and they’d organized a special task-force from DEA, FBI, and ATF to go down the list. Some they would use as witnesses; others they would arrest.
As for his wife, Matt felt she’d done enough and he was relieved she had taken an indefinite leave of absence from the DEA.
“Well?”
Her voice pulled him out of his ruminations.
“We’re almost there, babe.”
He heard her long-suffering sigh and chuckled. Probably not a good idea to keep an eight-week pregnant lady in suspense what with her raging hormones. Thankfully, they’d reached their destination. Matt turned onto a wide, aggregate driveway until it stopped at a sprawling Frank Lloyd Wright inspired prairie-style home.
“Matt, who lives here?” Grace asked quizzically. “Beautiful house.”
“Do you like it?” he asked meaningfully.
His wife’s mouth formed an “O” before settling into a dazzling smile. Her green eyes lit up and her face reminded him right then why he always wanted to make her happy. She hopped out of the vehicle before he could circle around to get her out.