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Punks POV

We barely make it through the door before my mind starts to wander. My eyes boring into the back of Aprils head. After the night we had, only one thing was certain if we are going to make this work. I need to make her mine again. I need my wife back. Jack may have taken her body but I still have her mind and soul, I've always had them and I am going to take back what is rightfully mine.

April throws herself onto the couch and I take a seat opposite. Watching her, close her eyes, sighing. I wonder what she's thinking? The same as me? Does she want to be intimate with me? Does she want me to love her like I did before this nightmare happened. Can I even bare to touch her, without thinking of him, clawing at April, his dirty hands on her, breathing on her. I not only have to do this for myself but for her too. We need rid of this vile memory.

I watch her every move intently as she leans forward and stands, walking across the living room to open the curtains, that hadn't been touched from the night before.

"Leave them" I say, trying not to sound forceful, but it comes out like that anyway.

April stills, not even bothering to look at me, after talking things through at the hospital, we still don't know how to behave around eachother right now.

"I'm just going to go lie down before the kids come home." And she walks right past me, without another word.

So I sit alone, in this darkened living room, my head like a prison for these dispised thoughts. That's one thing I tend to do. Overanalyse. And why not. Especially right now. I'm not sure what to do? Do I follow her up, talk to her, or sit here and wallow in my self pity? I've always been a man of action. So what the hell am I waiting for?

Climbing the stairs slowly and quietly. Our bedroom door is ajar. The light from the lamps peeking out from the cracks. I get to my destination and pause. Placing my hand against the door, hovering slightly, before it makes contact and begins to widen until I see April, stood with her back to me. Her pyjama shirt already covering her top half, and still clad in her jeans.

I close in on her, her natural scent hitting me like a tonne of bricks as I stop directly behind. Her fingers gently tugging round her waistband, I envelope my arms around her and place my hands over hers, stopping her from pulling them down. She jumps a little, and my heart beats slightly faster. I've frightened her. And the thing is, did I really care. I lean in and and bury my nose in her hair, taking in as much as I can. April doesn't move, but I can feel the goosebumps on her skin as I let my hands slide up her bare arms and rest on her dainty shoulders. I still haven't said a single word but I don't think I need to, my actions are speaking volumes.

I move her soft hair from one shoulder to the other, leaving it exposed. My lips gently touch the area between her neck and shoulder and Aprils breath hitches, jumping slightly, like she's been burnt. And fuck, does it turn me on. My tongue moves past the barrier of my teeth and lips, wanting to taste her skin so much, wanting to taste all of her. I begin my torture against her neck, kissing, licking sucking. My free hand moves to the column of her throat, her head moves back and I run my fingertips up and down. I know she wants this. She would have stopped me otherwise.

Kissing her like this, isn't enough anymore. I need to feel her lips on mine, I want to taste the sweetness from that beautiful mouth. I grasp Aprils' shoulders once again and spin her round to face me. Her eyes are closed and her head is low. She's ashamed. I know it, she thought I would never touch her like this again. I lift her chin with my thumb and forefinger.

"Look at me April", I manage to say as a whispering demand.

Her eyes flutter open, letting go a few stray tears in the process. I move in and catch them in a kiss before they roll off her cheek. But I don't stop until I find her mouth. Covering her lips with my own, lightly as first, testing the waters, incase it's too much for us both to handle. The familiar taste brings it all back, and I just can't help myself. Bringing my hands up to hold either side of her face as our kisses become more needy. And that was all it took for both of us to let go.

We tear frantically at one another's clothes as April and myself half stumble towards the bed. Although I'm half crazed with need and desire, to irradicate all traces of that bastard from my wife, and although I'm trembling and fizzed, my body is amazingly calm beneath her frenzied touch. It means too much now, If things are ever going to heal between us, I need to do this. I want to see her body, and not have thoughts of Jack. I want to love her again like no one else can. I want to love every inch of her, to admire her in all her beautiful vulnerability, cover every inch of her in adoring kisses to make her burn with the level of desire that I know will make all that pain in the last twenty fours hours disappear.

I wrench Aprils' pyjama top away from her form and discard it for the useless shroud it was, hardly caring as buttons fly everywhere. Delighting in the warmth that seems to be radiating from her smooth skin, I let my hands skim up her back and loosen off her bra. She lurches back and it's my raw instinct to grapple for her, nowhere near ready to lose her, with so much to prove. But as the bra drops from her arms, at the same time demanding in her touch that I shrug off my own shirt. When I can't seem to comply fast enough but for my own need, April growls impatiently into my mouth and claws it off, l was sure I had felt no sweeter physical pain than her shapely nails scratching deep reddened groves almost all the way down my arms

I lay her down against the perfectly made bedcovers, my eyes hungry, travelling appreciatively over her half naked body, admiring her in the half-light, captivated by the way her chest seemed to swell so much to create and release such ragged breaths in such quick succession. But a few moments later the need to claim that sound, make it more, make it my own again, I cover Aprils body with my own, our lips meet. I can't help but let my hands wander, touching her bare skin, and when the pad of my thumb brushes over her hardened nipple, she breaks off from the urgency of the kiss and tilts her head back into the bed giving out a subdued cry of pleasure.

It amazes me that so little has been done to her, hardly believing yet that it's me who is doing it, I smile gently and raise myself up a little through my arms and allow my lips to cover her every inch of exposure, intoxicated by soft and warm her skin I feel beneath this kiss, how willing. I cover her neck, her shoulders, her breasts all in soft whispering kisses that makes her tingle and writhe. April bites hard at her quivering lip, but she can't seem to control how the rest of her powerless body tremores and jerks. These movements in themselves tell a me, a determined lover all he needs to know in themselves, and I move lower still, as I cover the flat plane of her stomach too.

As I reach the waistband of her maternity jeans, I pause, cautiously slipping a fingertip beneath it to ease it away from her beautiful materanl body and heed any warning she might give me now. April seems to stiffen a little, and that panicks me, but still I find I can't bring myself to stop touching her. Slowly, I worked open the fly of her jeans and slip just one fingertip into the band of her lacy underwear. It makes me shiver in anticipation, with longing, to realise just how wet she is. This assures me a little more. Because now I know for myself, not only does she want me to touch her, she needs me too.

And so there's no protests, only the utmost compliance as I undress her fully, my breath is completely stolen from me. Feelings I hadn't felt coming back to me from the first time I saw her completey naked body. I couldn't stop myself saying the words, with a childlike enthsiasm almost.

"No one else is allowed to touch you. Remember.. I told you that..just me sweetheart..only me..it will only ever be me ok...?"

Aprils' sharp intake of breath is all I get in reply. But it hardly matters. I simply return to my previous occupation, kissing a path down into her now drenched heat, lapping skilfully at it with the tip of my tongue. Her cry now is not subdued. It is demanding. And I am ready to adhere.

I work her closer and closer to her first orgasm, I need to prove to her the kind of release I can really give her after the miserable experience she had indured, her body seems to tense and jerk continuously. I know she's close... I know I'll be the one causing it, and it means so damn much, seeing how feverish the sheer want has made her as she moans out her climax. Right then I had never heard a sweeter sound.

"Please..." she gasps breathlessly, writhing still as she fights to recover from the sensations she was not yet ready to surrender. "Now..."

I was ready for her in a moment, by now dizzy with the truth of this experience. I stroke lovingly up the inside of her drenched thigh, satisfied as she whimpers and parts her legs a little more. I hold himself above her, captivated by the look of desperation in her eyes. As I thrust into her, we both give out a simultaneous cry of... relief. This is what we both needed. I had just never imagined she might feel this good ever again, and it takes me several seconds to adjust to the idea that April was quite so perfect before I begin a rhythm.

Aprils breath seems to have died away in her throat, but still she moans, louder and louder, as she writhes to meet my thrust, increasing the level of pleasure on both sides until neither of us can take much more, quickening the pace and working one another harder and harder to achieve the bliss into oblivion. And hearing April cry out for more of me as an orgasm broke through her ravaged body, that was all I needed to achieve a height of pleasure I'd never met in our last ten years as lovers.


I lie in awe beside her, the messed up bed-covers barely covering her nakedness. Not that she needs to. I can admire her easily and willingly always. But she just seems to shudder as the last waves of her release leave her and they seem to have left her a little stunned.

But still I cannot help but repeat the words I have never meant as much as I did before. She bewitched me. I reach and tenderly stroke strands of her hair from her eyes, murmuring; "You're beautiful."

Her hand curls around my forearm, she lets her fingers brush across the back of my wrist, but even this innocent touch created between us makes her shudder in a way she never has before. She doesn't understand it and therefore it frightens her.

"No I'm not." she mumbles thickly, fixing her blank gaze on the dark ceiling.