Page 59 of A Burning Rage

“Lie on your back,” she says, going up on her elbow to face me. “I think you’re rushing things, Shane. Give your body a chance to heal. Abdominal surgery is serious.”

“I haven’t been able to touch you in days,” I complain.

When she starts running her fingers gently across my upper chest, over my clavicles and shoulders, I sigh and close my eyes, enjoying her touch. Soon, her fingertips move up to my face, and she strokes my cheeks and forehead. She traces the line of my brow, the bridge of my nose, and my lips.

“I touched your face like this when you were sedated,” she says quietly. “I was desperate for you to wake up and talk to me.” She’s quiet a moment, and when she resumes talking, I can hear the pain in her voice. “I was so afraid I lost you. When Tyler was driving us to the hospital, and you were in the ambulance, it broke my heart to think you might die without me there to hold you and tell you how much I love you.”

Her voice breaks, and when I turn my head to face her, I see tears pooling in her eyes.

“I was so scared I could hardly breathe,” she says as tears spill over her lids.

“Come here,” I say.

Beth leans closer. She tastes like peppermint and sunshine when she presses her lips to mine. I nudge her lips apart and slip my tongue inside. We kiss slowly, deeply, for a good while, both of us wanting this reconnection. Needing it.

She surprises me when she slips her hand beneath the sheet and gently strokes my penis from root to tip. My body responds instantly, my dick hardening at her touch.

When I attempt to reach for her, she says, “Just lie back.”

“Beth—”

“Relax and lie still, or I’ll stop, and we can just go to sleep.”

“Fine,” I say as my frustration builds. I want to touch her, damn it. I want to make love to my wife.

She moves her hand slowly up and down my length. Instantly, I’m hard. My body might be fucked up right now, but my dick still knows what to do.

Her movements are slow as she drives up my arousal. When her fingertips capture a bit of precum at the tip, she uses that to lubricate her palm.

I groan.

When she leans down to kiss my right nipple, a jolt of electricity shoots down my spine straight to my balls.

My gaze is locked on the sight of her hand on my cock. When she releases me and reaches between her legs, I about lose my fucking mind. She dips her fingers between her legs, coating them in her silky wetness, and returns to stroking me.

She’s using her own arousal as lubricant.

I groan. “You’re killing me,” I mutter roughly.

She chuckles, well aware of the effect she’s having on me. “Shh. No talking. Just relax, remember? Lie back and close your eyes.”

She’s killing me.

Her hand glides easily up and down my erection now, thanks to her own personal brand of lubrication. That alone is such a turn-on it’s enough to make me come. My cock is engorged, thick and throbbing, and I’m desperate for release. My sac tightens as it draws up, signaling my climax is coming.

Pressure wells up in my balls, and I groan. I’m so close!

Right before I come, she draws me deep into her hot, wet mouth. “Beth, fuck!” I cry out roughly as my cock hits the back of her throat. Gripping her hair tightly with one hand, I come in her mouth, and she swallows it down. My dick spasms over and over, pulsing as I spurt repeatedly into her. Her hand gently strokes up and down the length of my erection, drawing out my pleasure.

I’m breathing so hard I can barely speak. “Sweetheart, I—”

“Shh,” she says, chuckling softly. “Sleep.”

I’m so sexually sated, I can’t keep my eyes open. I want to return the favor. I want to make her come, too. As I fall asleep with her head on my shoulder, I feel like I’m the luckiest man alive.

I survived a shooting, and I’ll get another chance to live my life alongside the woman who owns my heart and soul.

Epilogue