“What do you mean, what am I doing here? This is my house, too, isn’t it?” Her voice was throaty and low and undid me in ways I didn’t know were possible.
I nodded. “This is your house. All my homes are your homes...”
She arched an eyebrow. “All your homes? Now you’re just showing off.”
I nodded and flexed my rigid cock against her belly. Fuck, it felt good just to press against her.
“All my homes, here and abroad, and cars, and investments... all yours,” I murmured, rocking against her and ignoring the point of the knife.
“As long as we stay married, right?” she pointed out in a cool tone.
I shook my head. “In the event of a divorce, even if that’s tomorrow. I thought you were going with Lucy?”
She swallowed hard and I watched her throat move with it. She was so fucking beautiful.
“I told you I wanted a choice... not that I wouldn’t choose you,” she said softly.
My heart was beating so hard I could barely think. My blood was racing and my cock straining, all to be closer to this woman. To consume her blinding light and keep it for myself.
My own personal salvation.
“So, are you telling me even with all the choices in the world... you choose me?” It sounded unbelievable, even to my ears.
But then she was smiling, a sunrise lighting up her face, and she nodded.
“Who else would I choose but my husband... the man I love... my own personal devil?” she murmured, letting the knife drop.
“Say that again,” I demanded, hauling her into my arms.
“The man I love? Or my husband?”
“My husband.... Call me your husband again,” I commanded.
She laughed. “You’re my husband, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m here to stay, I’m afraid.”
I pressed my face into the nook of her neck, lifting her against me.
“Thank fucking God,” I murmured, pressing my pounding heart against hers. “Thank God,” I repeated, the closest I’d ever come to a prayer. “The fact that you exist is almost enough to make me a believer.”
“Really?” Katarina said softly, and leaned up on her toes to kiss me. “Show me then. I’ve missed you and I want you to show me.”
“Fuck, you’re killing me,” I muttered, and carried her to the rug in front of the fire. “You destroyed me, dismantled every single cell and climbed inside. I’ll never get you out,” I said, more of a low chant than words that I was even conscious of.
She was only wearing a silky robe and pajama set. Now she wore pale ivory satin, fitting for an angel.
The material slipped down her body with a whoosh and pooled around her ankles. I was already kneeling before her and lifting one leg over my shoulder. She reached out for the mantelpiece,her eyes fixed on me as I leaned forward and pressed my face against her exposed cunt. I swiped my tongue up the length of her slit, dipping inside and then focusing on her clit.
She moved her hips, demanding my attention everywhere that made her shudder and twitch. I looked up at her as I fucked her with my tongue. She really was an angel, with her skin glowing in the firelight, her blond hair strewn in ribbons around her shoulders. Her blue eyes were unfocused, lost in pleasure, her hands in my hair.
I could die a happy man. She’d come back to me. She’d chosen me.
She was mine.
She came suddenly, a sweet little moan leaving her on a rush. Her cum ran down my chin and dripped onto my collarbones, and I was washed clean... a new man.
Her husband.
From now on, nothing else mattered.