LINCOLN
My bed is empty.
On any other night, that’s just what I would expect. But it’s not any other night. It’s my wedding night, and I’m missing my bride.
It’s closing in on five in the morning. I’m exhausted and I’m horny, and the only thing that got me through reports from the clean-up crew and a recap from Burns was the promise of returning to the penthouse and finding Ava Monroe curled up in my bed.
I know she made it upstairs to the penthouse. Before Mona turned in again for the night, she assured me that Ms. Ava was settled in, and Royce said the same before I relieved him, and my second shot straight for the elevator.
He was smirking as he left, but I was used to that from Royce. I didn’t even think about what he could’ve found so fucking funny, but as I walk into my bedroom and find the sheets not even mussed, I almost turn around and go after the prick. He must’ve known things didn’t go according to plan—I explicitly gave orders that Ava was to be moved right into my personal space—and got the hell out before I found out.
I want to drag Royce by the collar to explain himself, but I want my wife even more.
There’s no sign she even stopped in this room. The living room was empty, too, and when I throw open the bathroom door, she isn’t in there, either.
Where the fuck did she go?
I don’t know, but if I have to search the penthouse inch by inch to track her down, I will. She couldn’t escape my watching eye when she was living her life out in Springfield. She hasn’t got a prayer of escaping me on my territory.
If I’d been thinking rationally, I would have gone straight to the guest rooms. Since I wasn’t, it takes me four rooms before I open a door and find my Ava curled up in the middle of the guest bed, pretty brown hair spilled on the pillow, curvy body covered up by an oversized t-shirt with enough leg on display that my cock twitches.
I’ve been hard all fucking night. Taking her once in the bathroom—consummating our marriage—had done nothing to take the edge off of fifteen years of need, and I only added to my penance when I let her lay her head in my lap, centimeters away from my erection without tugging on the zipper and slipping the crown between her lips.
I would’ve killed to do that. Only knowing that I had to uphold my end of our bargain before I could enjoy my new wife kept me sitting still in the car, stroking her hair, fantasizing about making her mine again and again.
I did what I could for tonight. Burns made sure that he was the car called to check out “suspected gunshots” in Ava’s neighborhood, and my guys have already disposed of Maglione’s body. His car is already in a chop shop on the West Side, and by tonight, it’s parts will be scattered.
Her house is cleaned, and I’ve got two of my best soldiers packing it up so that she’ll be moved in to mine in no time. Just like I promised, it’s like tonight never happened.
At least, the part where Ava was forced to kill her ex to save herself. The part where she promised herself to me?
That definitely happened, and if she wants to pretend it didn’t… I’ll be happy to remind her.
She’s snuffling, fast asleep, and when I call her name, she doesn’t react. The Ava I knew was a light sleeper unless she had a little help, and I glance around the room, squinting into the shadows.
There’s a mug sitting on the nightstand beside the bed.
I pick it up. It’s half empty. Taking a sniff, I nod to myself when I catch a tiny whiff of the tasteless sedative I had Royce slip inside of the tea. Mona would’ve brewed her some on my orders, but despite the powder being tasteless, it has a faint nutty scent that I recognize over the floral tea.
Between how tired Ava must have been and the added boost from the sedative, she’s dead to the world. Her luggage is on the floor, next to the guest room bed. One of the suitcases is partly open—probably from when she traded the wedding dress for her sleep shirt—and I kick it out of my way.
My wife belongs in my bed. It’s as simple as that. No matter why she thought she’d get away with spending the night in one of my guest rooms, she better get used to the idea that, every morning from now on, she’ll wake up next to me.
Slipping one hand under her thighs, the other under her back, I heft Ava up in my arms. Her weight is nothing to me, and I smile to myself as I carry her sleeping body out of this room and into mine. It’s a bridal-style hold, and by the time I’m crossing the threshold with my new wife, I can’t wait to get inside of her again.
I spread her out in the middle of the bed. Quickly shucking my clothes off, I give my hard cock a few quick strokes, trembling with the desire running through me.
This woman is mine. She always has been, and now that she has my ring on her finger, I couldn’t care less about who touched her when I couldn’t. I earned this—and if I didn’t, I’m taking it anyway—and I’m not waiting until she’s awake again to enjoy my wife again.
I don’t undress her; to me, it’s fucking hot for me to be completely naked while Ava keeps her shirt on. She didn’t bother pulling on shorts—as though she remembered what being with me was like and expected that I’d find my way between her legs again as soon as possible—though I growl under my breath when I shove her shirt up and see that she’s wearing panties again.
Her pair from earlier tonight are in my pants pocket. I took them after I fucked her in the bathroom at Callihan’s house, a prize and a trophy in one. I loved the idea of her going bare after we finished, my come slipping out of her pussy, and her hole waiting just for me. I even used the silky panties to rub one out in my personal bathroom at the Playground tonight, when the urge to find her and fuck her got so bad that I had to make do with my fist.
I went fifteen years without working my cock into a hot cunt. Within hours, I started fiending, desperate to get inside of Ava again. It was like returning home when I bent her over the sink, forcing her to watch me as I made her mine. If I could’ve stayed there, I would’ve, but now that I can… I will.
The panties have to go, though. Grabbing the band, I work them down her body, breathing in deep when I reveal her sweet little pussy. I want to bury my face in her curls, lapping at her slit, swallowing her whole, but while I’d get pleasure out of that, my sleeping beauty would miss out on me tasting her again.
Later, I promise, slipping my hand between her thighs, pushing them apart. For now, I have something else I’m dying to do.
I trace her slit with my thumb, checking to see how dry she is. I’d never risk hurt her by fucking her when she wasn’t ready, and I suck my thumb into my mouth, using some of my saliva to add some moisture. It’s still not enough.
Fuck.
I don’t have any lube. I haven’t needed it, and I’m not about to use lotion and risk giving Ava any kind of infection because I was too desperate to fuck her without thinking of her safety.
That’s not going to stop me, though. Grabbing her thighs, I position her right beneath my mouth and spit. Rubbing it into her pussy, it provides enough slipperiness that her body starts to lubricate itself. Dipping my finger inside her tight snatch, she sucks me in up to my knuckle.
Much better.
I spit on my hand next, using the precome beading at the tip of my cock to get myself nice and slick for her. Once I’m as ready as I’m going to get, I push Ava on her side so that my big body can cocoon here and start feeding my cock into her.
I’m only halfway seated when I can’t stop from moaning her name. “Ava, fucking Ava.”
She doesn’t stir, and I push a little more, taking my time, enjoying her tight grip as I squeeze her hip, pulling her slumbering body up against my bare chest.
Only when my dick is as far inside as it can go do I curve my arm around her, trapping her in my embrace. I pump a few times, enough to send shivers of pleasure through me, before throwing my leg over hers, keeping us connected with my cock nestled inside of her.
Holding her like this… claiming her as intimately as I can… it’s not about me just getting off tonight. Not really. If I wanted a tight hole and a quick nut, I could get a fleshlight, and it would be similar to shoving my cock inside of a sleeping woman just to feel her squeezing my length.
For me, it’s always been about the connection and feeding the possessiveness inside of me. And not just with any partner, but Ava in particular. Just like how she’s the only woman I’ve ever fucked, she’s the only one I’ve ever fantasized about being connected to in every way that matters.
The first time she gave me consent to fuck her from behind while she was sleeping, I was so excited about getting to try my kink out that I didn’t even have to thrust. Just knowing my Ava trusted me enough to own her body when she was completely vulnerable had me shooting my load almost instantly.
I got better, though, to the point that I could go for hours so long as I didn’t move. That’s when I realized that, as much as I loved fucking her while she slept, I got even more pleasure out of slipping my cock inside of her and just keeping it there.
That’s what I’m doing now. Eventually, I’ll lose control and I’ll thrust until I’ve filled her up with my come, but I just need to hold her. To touch her. To enjoy the feel of her in my arms and her heat scalding my cock.
I lose track of how long I’ve warmed myself up with her body. I don’t sleep because I’m fucking terrified that I’ll wake up and discover that this has all been a dream. To Ava, no doubt she’s convinced she’s living a nightmare, but I’ve done everything I could for a second chance with this woman.
And now I have it.
Because I’m still awake, I can tell when Ava starts coming around—and when she realizes that I’ve pinned her to me, and she has my cock inside of her.
Her body stiffens a second before she tries to move away from me. I gasp at how her movement jostles my cock, and she whimpers as it hits her that she’s not going anywhere.
“It’s me,” I whisper. “It’s your husband.”
If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never forget the thrill that roars through me the first time I call myself Ava’s husband—or the way she murmurs Link in the early morning light.
Ah. She knows exactly who’s inside of her now.
I roll my hips, dragging my cock halfway out of her before nestling myself inside my wife again. “That’s right, pet. You’re right where you belong.”
