The Reclaiming of Ivy Leavold (Markham Hall Book 4) Read Online Free Page B

shaft also covered with a glossy sheen, ready to take her dark flesh.
    I pressed the head of my cock against her and she cried out.
    “Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes, yes, yes.”
    “Careful with that word, Mrs. Markham,” I said, halting my movement. “You don’t know what you’re saying yes to.”
    “I’m saying yes to you , Julian,” she said, and it was so open, so vulnerable, the way she said my name, that all of my anger and all of my lust was now bound up with the tenderest feelings that a man can have for a woman. My precious wildcat, my sweet wife, whom I had vowed to take care of and whom I’d failed these last months.
    No more.
    I gritted my teeth and leaned forward, the sensation of her tight, tight skin giving way enough to make my balls tighten, and I wasn’t even inside yet.
    “You didn’t answer my question from before.”
    I talked as I pushed, going so slowly that it would almost be like I wasn’t moving at all, except I could see the incremental progress as her body swallowed my dick, took it deep within herself. She cried out as the wide crest of my cock finally pushed past the initial resistance, and I gave a little hiss, but I continued with my lecture.
    “You know what I think? I think you didn’t use our signal because you wanted me to come after you. You wanted me to take you like you needed to be taken—roughly, without question, completely subject to my discipline. You needed me to crack open the shell of motherhood and let the wildcat back out, and instead, I let you fester inside of it.”
    I finally slid home, buried to the balls, and her skin was so hot, so tight, and would I ever get enough of every part of her? Especially now that her body was so much fuller, so much riper, a body that begged to be kneaded and worshipped—and fuck, she was bucking into me, her body stroking me as I stayed still, and I was going to come right here and now if she didn’t stop, I was going to shoot my load in her beautiful ass, and I had other plans for it…and for her.
    I pressed the flat of my palm against her back. “Be still, Mrs. Markham. Or I will pull out right now.”
    She froze, but small sounds emitted from her throat that betrayed her abject distress.
    “Now, where was I? Ah yes. You needed me, you were telling me precisely how you needed me by not using your signal, and I failed you. And for that, my wife, I am so, so sorry. It was my duty—my vow—to keep you and care for you, to break you and put the pieces back together every day for as long as we both lived…and instead, I coddled you. I treated you the very way you needed to be shown that you were not—I treated you as if you were fragile, as if you were powerless, as if you were weak. When all along, you needed me to show you how strong, how magnificent, how fucking beautifully powerful you are.”
    She was crying now, crying from my words instead of my hands, and I leaned over her again to slide my arms underneath her and raise her up to a standing position. I had to bend my knees to keep inside of her, but fuck, the change in angle and the weight of her breasts in my hands had me nearly weeping too, trembling with the urge to fuck her hard. Especially when I felt those breasts grow heavier, when I felt her shudder, and then felt the wet warmth of her leaking against my palms. I knew many men shied away from this aspect of child-rearing, but I did not, because knowing that this sweet milky warmth was for the child that she had given me made me painfully, viciously aroused. The primeval male in me growled with pleasure, with the urge to create more babies with her, with the blind need to spill my seed inside my mate.
    Her leaking milk while I was in her ass made her cry harder. “Julian, I can’t do this. I can’t be both. I don’t know where my heart is…”
    I slid my hand up to press it against her chest. I wasn’t pumping now; I was simply inside her, against her…with her. “Your heart is mine, Ivy. To do