He wouldn’t stop raining his confessions on while my mouth moved from his cap all the way down, and then back up again.
"Argh, María José. How did you get so good at it?" He groaned out, arousal thickening his voice.
I laughed, grabbing his balls. "How can I not when I have you for a husband?"
In reciprocation, he fisted my hair and began to guide my mouth slowly until my lips closed in on his length and then spewed it back out.
He pushed gently onto the bed before he could release, crawling over . His lips kissed down the valley between my breasts, across my ribs, my stomach — worshipping instead of rushing.
He wasn’t trying to own . He was trying to co ho.
Every ti our bodies moved together, it felt like an apology. Like forgiveness wrapped in heat and breath and the silk of skin on skin.
He slid my panties down slowly, his fingers tracing my thighs with maddening slowness. I was already trembling — half from need, half from the emotion lodged in my chest like a stone.
"Axel," I whispered, breathless. "Please..."
He kissed again, deeper and deeper, one hand gripping my hip as his body aligned with mine. But then he stopped.
"I’m scared," he admitted, voice raw against my mouth.
D-did Axel just confess to being scared?
I blinked up at him. "Of what?"
"That this doesn’t fix it. That we go back to silence again."
Aw... to hear this co from him. My eyes instantly glossed up.
I reached up and cupped his face. "Then don’t let it. Stay. Talk to . Keep choosing ."
He looked like he might break.
And then, he entered with a long sigh. My breath paused for a mont and both our eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. Full. Familiar. Devastatingly perfect.
We moved together like music only we could hear. Moans escaped before I could stop them as Axel thrust in and out of , penetrating deeper and hitting spots he never had before.
He swallowed my moans all in kisses, in gritted whispers of my na. His pace was, intentional, and almost punishing in how much it didn’t rush. This wasn’t about release. This was about rembering. Rembering how we used to fit. How we used to love.
How we still could.
His forehead rested on mine, sweat slick on both our skin. "I love you," he whispered. "Even when I’m cold. Even when I’m distant. I never stopped."
Tears pricked my eyes again, but this ti, they were softer.
"I love you too," I whispered back. "Even when you’re too difficult."
He laughed softly — that old Axel laugh I hadn’t heard in too long... and the sound made my chest ache in the best way.
And then, his body pressed deeper into mine, moving with a tempo that wasn’t rushed. The way he thrust into was like a silent prayer, every kiss a plea for sothing neither of us had the words to ask for.
I arched into him, wrapping my legs around his waist, needing more—all of him. His na left my mouth in broken syllables, and I wasn’t sure anymore if I was begging him to keep going or never stop.
"Axel..." I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulders as his thrusts grew deeper and more desperate.
He groaned into my neck, sweat slipping down his temple. "You feel like ho."
That word again. Ho.
I lifted my hips to et his movents, pleasure sparking like fire under my skin. It was overwhelming, how my body rembered him. How every part of welcod him like he had never left.
He moved inside with powerful strokes, grinding against the spot that made shatter every single ti. My back arched sharply off the bed. A cry escaped as pleasure knotted low in my belly, coiling, rising...
"Oh—Axel, I’m..." My words broke apart, replaced by a gasp as my orgasm hit full force.
I trembled around him, thighs shaking, vision blinking white as I clung to him like my body couldn’t stand the release on its own.
He grunted at the feel of clenching around him, hips stuttering. "Fuck... María José..."
One more thrust. Two. Then he released with a ragged moan, his body tensing above before softening entirely, lting into mine. He collapsed gently, careful not to crush , our chests pressed together, breath mixing, skin damp with sweat.
We lay there for a mont... in silence. It wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. Just... still.
He brushed his lips against my shoulder, still buried inside . "I didn’t an to hold it in this long."
I blinked up at the ceiling, my heart still fluttering. "Then say it now."
A mont passed. He took a deep inhale...then, an exhale.
"I saw sothing... more than once."
I frowned, turning to et his gaze. "What do you an?"
"The first ti was before we got married." His voice was quiet. "You were in bed with Ignacio."
My lips pressed together. That. Again. It was my most shaful mory. Even though I hadn’t let Ignacio in my bed intending to lose my virginity to him, he still dared to take it.
Yet, sohow, I don’t have a single mory of it. The most heartbreaking part of my life wasn’t even when I lost my mother or when Don Diego and his daughters made my life a living hell.
It was this. When one of the things that kept sacred and dignified in the eyes of my husband was taken without my approval.
"I thought we talked about that," I whispered, tightening the sheet around as I blinked back tears. "You said you understood. That I was vulnerable. That Ignacio probably took advantage of ."
He nodded slowly. "I did say that. And I ant it at the ti. But it still stuck, María José. Not because I don’t believe you—but because I hate that the mory exists. I hate that he touched you when I should have been the one protecting you."
I exhaled, softening. "Axel..."
He shook his head, like he needed to get the second part out or he’d never breathe right again.
"The second ti..." His voice weaned.
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