Yours: A Forever After Novella Read Online Free Page B

coming, Harleigh, and despite claiming you’ve got a life here, friends, and a job, you’ve got a husband too. A husband who wants his fucking wife back.”
     
    I push Harleigh backward so that her gorgeous ass is planted on the side of the bed and her eyes are focused on me and only me. Dropping down to a crouch in front of her, I run my hands up the outside of her thighs, raising her tight as fuck skirt to half way up her long, lightly tanned legs.
     
    Then, using my shoulders to part her legs wide enough to accommodate my frame, I situate myself between them and take both of Harleigh’s hands in mine.
    “Four years, Harleigh. You’ve been Mrs. Williams for eight goddamn years, and I’ve only had you beside me for half of them. I played by your rules by keeping our marriage a secret from our folks, but it’s time the rules changed, babe. We’re going to do shit my way now. No more secrets or hiding, Harleigh Belle. You’re my wife and I’m your man, and I don’t give the first fuck who knows it.”
     
    “No,” she practically screeches. Harleigh’s face has paled, her eyes are wide and frightened, and if I didn’t know my girl better, I’d say she’s genuinely terrified.
     
    Sucking in a deep breath, she tugs her hands from mine and wipes her sweaty palms down the front of her skirt.
    “I mean, please don’t. At least, not yet. Give me a week. A week to sort all this out in my head before you do anything that can’t be undone.”
     
    “What the fuck for?” I growl out. “You’ve had plenty of time to sort out whatever’s been fucking with your head. There’s no sense delaying the inevitable, Angel. This is going to happen, people are going to find out you’re mine, both legally and because I fucking claimed you as such over twenty years ago.”
     
    I rise to my full six-foot-three height, towering over her and groan when I realize from this angle I can see straight down the front of her shirt. Harleigh’s ripe, full tits are practically spilling out of her matching lacy pink bra. Her nipples are beaded into tight little points, reminding me that’s it’s been too long since I’ve taken them in my mouth.
     
    Blinking up at me, Harleigh stands with her arm wrapped protectively around her middle.
    “Please, Lyric,” she says, her voice cracking on the last syllable. “Just one more week. We’ve kept it a secret this long, what difference will seven more days make?”
     
    My temper simmers back to life. The fact that my wife doesn’t seem to understand the torture I’ve endured day in and day out having to live without her by my side, and in my bed everyday guts me. She might not have felt the same, the desperate loneliness that comes from missing the other half of your soul, but I felt it enough for the both of us.
     
    Every fucking morning, I was reminded by cold sheets and a heavy heart that my reason for breathing was missing. When something happened during my day, I reached for my phone to call her, only to remember she wouldn’t pick up. I must have left her hundreds of voicemails, sent thousands of texts, most of them about random shit, but all of them because I just needed that connection with her.
     
    But the worst part of my day, the part I dread the most is the nights. Coming home to an empty house sucks. Coming home to silence where there used to be music, laughter, the sounds of Harleigh banging shit around in the kitchen while trying to make us dinner is even worse. But crawling back into bed, the same one Harleigh and I shared for months, the one I fucked her raw in every night until we both passed out from exhaustion broke the little that was left of my heart.
     
    It took a while, but when I knew I was on the verge of losing my ever-loving fucking mind being without her, I came to the conclusion that nothing could be worse than this. The yearning, the ache in my heart that seeped into my bones made it impossible not to do everything in my power to convince my girl