The Secret Life of Mrs. de Silva

Chapter 8- Badass

"A pinch of soul
with a whole lot of sass
a sprinkle of naughty
and just enough of class.
The strength of a warrior
and a go-to-hell glare
a past that's not perfect
because life isn't fair.
A sailor's mouth
with a heart full of love,

That's what a badass is made of."

—cwpoet

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Jude's POV

I hugged her soft body plastered into mine. Her lips slightly parted as she was caught off guard. And I deepened the kiss the way I wanted to for a long long time. It's not a soft nor a sweet one. It boarded into possessive and passionate. Like a soldier from a war zone who almost lost his life but finally came back home, afraid of letting go.

And I will never let her go. Not unless she beg me to or I beg her not to. Her soft hands landed on my chest but she doesn't push me away like I anticipated. Instead, she gripped my shirt tightly as if holding me in place. Damn the shirt! I want her soft hands on my bare skin. I slide my tongue on the roof of her mouth back and forth making her moan and repeating the process. Her fingers clawed in my chest, her nails almost digging in my skin.

I break the constricting shirt apart without breaking the kiss. And I more than satisfied. Even the flying buttons are music to my ears. I hold her hands in mine, guiding her to where I want to be touched. I kissed her neck down nipping at its pulse then back up behind her ear biting her earlobe softly. She gave out a strangled  moan as if she doesn't want me to hear it. But I want it all. Her soft moans, the little noises she does every time I touch her. I want to hear my name in her lips as she come undone in my arms.

"Touch me baby." I growled an order as she's hesitating. I feel her soft touches on my chest, on my nipple down my abs and further. Fuck, that feels good!

I think I probably had a sudden amnesia for I can't remember what exactly happened. I thought I'm the one in control, but the next thing I know, she's on her knees with my fly open and my boxers down. Holy shit!

I think I'll die if she decided to stop. I remember her warning me about not wanting her on her knees in front of me because the moment she does, I'll be the one begging. And it's a shame because I surely will. She's maybe on her knees but right now I'm at her mercy.

And she knows it. I saw her wicked smile just before her little tongue darted out to taste me.

Oh, shit!

But then suddenly I found myself on the floor. With my nose face flat. And my back probably broken.

My wife, she's in the middle of the huge fluffy bed, the one where I was lying at a second ago and having the most erotic dream of my life, when the damn woman decided to kick me out. I mean literally kick me flying out of it. Okay, I know I'm exaggerating, but damn why exactly at that point? Why not after the did is done?

Now, I have this big problem tenting on my pants and the solution is just right here in front of me, in the middle of the bed. But I dare not move. I have a feeling if I so much as touch the bed, I'll be flying out again, not only with broken bones this time but also with broken balls.

So I stayed where I was massaging my aching back with one hand and trying to cover my face with the other. Because I can't fight the smile forming in my lips. Maybe I really do have problem with my eyes, she's scowling at me but why do I find it adorable?

I feel like we're in a movie, but with a different genre. Mine is erotic with a bit of comedy. Her is action that will probably turn into a murder case.