He cocked his head and let his hand rest on the ice pack. “I know you’re a grown woman, but I want to offer you whatever comfort I can. I want to stay hands-off, but you make that hard. My hands want to be on you, taking care of you, holding you, comforting you.”
“Is that the dad in you or the teacher in you?” I asked, setting the empty bottle on the tray again.
“Neither,” he whispered, his bottle forgotten as he stroked my hip. “It’s the man in me. The other two parts of me offer experience in how to treat an injury, but it’s the man in me who wants to take your pain away and offer you comfort for a few moments each day, at least until we can make you more comfortable for longer stretches.”
I turned on my side halfway and tucked my hand behind his neck. “You’re so good at it that it scares me most of the time. I don’t want to admit how good you make me feel because then I have to explore what I’ve always believed about me, men, and my ability to make one happy.”
The look he gave me was enough to make my panties wet if I had been wearing any. “You explore all you want, but I will say that you make me happy without even trying. Catching a glimpse of you while I’m in the yard, you oblivious to me, makes my heart race with happiness.”
“Are you sure that’s not lust?” I asked, not even jokingly. “Mine does the same thing. I’m not kidding about the exploring part. I’m not super good at this stuff.”
His head shook slightly, and he slid his hand up the inside of my leg to cup my thigh carefully. “I know the difference between lust and happiness. Lust is when my dick hardens at nothing more than a look from you. That’s all it takes, just a look that says you’re thinking about the same thing I am, and I’m instantly hard. Happiness is the rest of the day.”
“The rest of the day?” I asked, confused.
“The times you cross my mind and my lips tip up in a smile. When I think about dinner, and want it to be with you. When I’m setting up a fire, hoping you’ll see it and come over so I can spend time with you again. When I lay down at night after we’ve been together and smile because I know when I wake up, I’ll have another chance to see you again.”
I nodded slowly, mostly because his hand on my leg was preventing me from thinking straight. “I see what you mean. I do the same thing, but I usually question and second guess every step of it until mostly the only thing I feel is scared.”
He frowned and leaned down, his lips almost touching mine. “Then, my first goal in this marriage is to teach you the difference between happiness and fear. Are you going to be a good student and do your homework?” he asked, holding my gaze.
I swallowed because suddenly, all I could think about was being hot for teacher. “I will,” I agreed, my lips aching for his.
“Excellent. The first assignment is to kiss me, but instead of worrying about what anyone else will think, concentrate on how it makes you feel.”
“That feels closer to the lust side than the happiness side,” I said, my lips almost touching his.
“Mmm,” he hummed. “The extra credit is to tell me if a kiss can be both.”
His lips crashed into mine then, and he held himself over me, his hands braced on the bed to keep from crushing me while his tongue swept inside my mouth. I grasped the back of his neck tightly and let him have his way with me until I needed air so desperately I was sure I would pass out. He sensed it and broke off the kiss, trailing his lips down my jaw to the crook of my neck, where he kissed and suckled the tender skin there. The sensation made me suck in a breath, and my hips thrust up off the bed into his leg that he’d braced between mine. He moaned, the sound ricocheting through my body to drag a moan from my own lips.
I buried my hands in his hair and pulled him back to my lips, his pliable and swollen against mine. “God, Bishop, what is happening to us?” I asked around his lips as I felt his hardness against my hip. “I feel like I’m drowning in you.”
He tightened his hold on me and rolled me over on top of him, his lips barely leaving mine. “You’re not,” he promised, caressing my cheek. “I’m your flotation device in this crazy life,” he whispered before his lips were back on mine.
Our moans of pleasure filled the room, making me want nothing more than to strip us bare and finish what we started. I couldn’t do it, though. I couldn’t risk being blinded by the lust of a guy like Bishop. Eventually, we’d have to go our separate ways, and if I had found a lover and had to give him up, I would never be the same. All I could do tonight was offer him a token of appreciation for marrying me when he didn’t have to.
His hard dick was trapped between us, and he thrust against my belly with needy desire. His basketball shorts couldn’t contain the length of him when he was hard, and he moaned when I pushed back against him. His hands tightened in my hair as I braced my right knee between his thighs and rubbed my belly up and down across his length. Every motion dragged a moan from him as he kissed me.
“If you keep that up, I’m going to come,” he moaned, his lips in my
