Chapter Thirty Two:

Steam pours from the bathroom, Hank whines at the door, scratching to be let in. His owners, blissfully unaware.

'I thought… You… Said… You…Weren't going… To… Wait…Up?' His words punctuated by his thrusts, pushing her further and further up the tiled wall in the shower every time. Bringing her head up from the crook of his neck, she raises a hand to grasp the top of the shower door to steady herself.

'I lied.' She smiles bright in his face as her molten skin slides on the cold tiles. He returns with a dirty grin and slides a hand from her ass to grab her thigh tightly, bringing it in closer around his hip. Pumping in and out of her. 'Oh god.' She squeezes her legs together, lost in the steam, in the haze of him.

'Worth… The… Wait?' He drops his face, sucking on her neck, with just enough force but sure to not leave a mark.

'Always.' She brings her hands to his face, dragging it up from the soft spot on her neck and pushes her tongue into his mouth. Another forceful thrust and she is pushed up and away from him. 'So… Good.' She runs her tongue over her lips, hands dropping to his shoulders, staring down at his face. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, his hair, soaking and plastered to his forehead.

'Couldn't… Stop thinking… About... You… In… That suit… Curly Hair. Uhh honey.' He spins them round, stopping for a moment, whilst he turns and steps towards the tiled seat at the end of the shower, keeping her safe in his arms whilst he lowers them down. Shuffling back to lean against the wall, he loosens his grip on her legs, which she drops either side of his thighs and using the leverage raises and lowers herself onto him repeatedly. His fingers digging into her hips, his mouth wide open, breathing heavily onto her skin. 'Don't stop honey, don't… Stop.' His head falls back, thudding slightly onto the tile. Sara brings herself forward, her breasts crushed against his slick chest as they move and grind together. His arms instinctively moving around her back, pulling her even closer, arms tucked under her armpits, hands creeping over her shoulders, pushing her down with every drop of her body, slamming them together harder, tighter. 'Come for me honey, come for me, be a good wife.'

'No.' She slams down, rolling forwards and backwards, switching up the pace, grinding herself on his pubic bone. Making this last. 'Need you more… Harder… Faster…' She pants into his hair, riding him.

'Harder?' She hums in agreement. He stands up suddenly, gravity causing her to drop down onto his cock hard before he lifts her off him. Kicking the shower door open he walks them over to the sink, dropping her on the edge, pulling her so her ass is just balancing on the marble. Spitting into his hand, he coats the end of his cock and pushing inside her quickly, grunting at the reconnection and slams into her repeatedly. The cold marble of the vanity is biting into her skin, but her orgasm is building, coiling so tightly in her lower belly she doesn't care. Leaning forward she bites his shoulder as he pounds into her forcing her ass back, dropping to the sinks rim. Bringing a hand up around her neck, he squeezes slightly, restricting her airflow just enough to push her towards her end. Eyes slammed shut so tight she pants and moans.

'Shit.. Shit.. Shit.. Gil, yes, yes, yesss. Oh fuck Gillllllll!' Her muscles squeezing his dick so tight, he jolts and erupts in her, thrumming through her orgasm as he ejaculates into her for what seems like minutes. His hand loosens from her neck, rubbing lightly where his fingers pulsed.

'You ok?' He rubs her cheek and kisses her firmly on the lips.

'So so good.' Her eyes remain closed, as she leans back, head resting on the mirror behind her. Raking her nails down his wet chest, over and around his nipples she sighs loudly, spent. He pulls from her and grabs a towel from the rail next to them. Picking up a second one he holds it against her chest. Her eyes creak open, a smile spreading across her face when she takes him in once more. 'God, you're good at that.' She slides forward, he offers a hand when she jumps down from the vanity. He pats her on her ass as she sashays away towards their bedroom. Following her closely, he watches as she bends to the bottom drawer to pull some clothing out, admiring her slim form. His heart still hammering in his chest. From her position, facing away from him, ass in the air she pulls his attention. 'Don't you think you've seen enough?' Rolling upwards she turns and clamps her hands on her hips. He smirks and shrugs, winking at her from across the room. Dropping his towel from around his waist, he slips his robe on from the back of the door and ties it tight, padding over to her, he drops a featherlight kiss to her lips. Rearing back, serious tone, dead pan look to his face.

'Of you? No dear.'

Ten minutes later, Sara, dressed in her comfiest pjs enters the kitchen. Where she finds him pouring over a letter sat on a stool at the kitchen counter.

'What's that?' He folds it over and slides it across the counter, pulling his glasses off his face. She picks it up, holding eye contact with him whilst she unfolds it. He can see her face as she skim reads the text, then goes back again to reread more thoroughly. 'Teaching? What's your thoughts?' She refolds it carefully and places it down between them.

'I think I should go.' He doesn't look up, but stares down at the letter.

'Me too.' He looks up at her, a small smile. He frowns, a questioning look thrown her way. Continue he pleads with his eyes, she grants him his wish. 'You're different recently. I don't know why or how but… Well actually I think I do know I just don't want to say it.' He pushes back from the counter and turns to face her.

'Say it, please?'

'The miniatures… They are getting to you. You don't seem to be sleeping very well, most evenings I wake up alone, and you are in your study, buried in a book or on your laptop. And when you do manage some sleep, you reach for me more often and your grip is like glue. Not that I mind. You aren't switching off like you normally do. You seem distant, like you are drifting off into another world. You're getting more migraines. You're distracted, you drove to my old apartment the other day after we finished at the store. You seem... Unsettled.' He reaches for her, pulling her hand so she comes to rest in between his legs.

'How do you understand me better than I understand myself?' He rests his head on her shoulder and rubs his face on the soft fabric of her t shirt.

'Oh I don't think I'll ever understand you Gilbert.' He laughs into her neck. 'You said wife before you know... In the shower.'

'Did I?' He whips his head up quickly, nearly catching her chin with his head.

'Yeah, you've done it a few times actually recently. I don't mind, its… Cute.' He brings a hand up to her forehead and holds the back of his hand to her skin. 'What are you doing?' She pushes his hand away and tries to move back but his other hand is waiting behind her ready for her retreat.

'That's the second time you have used the word cute in the last 24 hours. I think you need medical attention.' He starts to tickle her side, watching her squirm.

'I don't need anything, but for you to be ok.'

'I'm fine.' She interrupts him.

'Famous last words.' Crossing her arms over her chest.

'Sara. I'm fine. I just need to clear my head, get away from death for a little while.'

'Just death?' Her arms uncoil, fingers coming to play with the tie of his robe, between them. He picks up her hand, brings it to his mouth and kisses the back of it.

'Yes. Not you, not us, or the condo, or Hank. Just… Death. For a few weeks.'

'Ok, Just a few weeks.'

'I'm not sure I even want to go just yet. I feel like it could be a step backwards.'

'When do they want you?'

'In just over a month.'

'Ok.' She smooths down the collar on his robe now. 'Think about it. But just talk to me about it ok?'

'Ok.'