Page 34 of The Unwanted Wife

"I’ll get it mended for you."

"You’d do that?" Her features soften.

I’d do that and so much more, if you gave me a chance. I flatten my palms over the flare of her hips and fit her over my crotch.

"Oh!" Her eyes round in an expression of surprise. Which also means her mouth is open in an 'O', which makes me wonder how it would feel to have her lips wrapped around my cock, which causes the blood to drain to my groin, and my cock to extend, and the tent over my crotch to grow larger and wider and fit snugly in the space between her thighs. And she must feel it for… "Oh, my—" She blinks. "I… Is that… I think that's?—"

"My dick stabbing into your pussy?" I pause for effect. "It is."

Her cheeks redden. "No need to be so explicit."

"But you blush so prettily when I am."

"I’m not a prude." She tosses her hair over her shoulder.

"Is that right?"

She raises her fingers, then grips my shoulder. "It is." Using me for leverage, she grinds down on my already swollen cock, which instantly fights to escape the confines of my slacks.

"Fuck." I grit my teeth. A bead of sweat slides down my temple.

Her lips curve in a small smile of victory, then she begins to rub herself against the column in my pants.

16

Skylar

Don’t do this. Don’t do this.

"You don’t want to do this," he growls.

Which, of course, makes me want to prove to him I can. I squeeze down on his throat—the tendons of which are so tense, they feel like taut guitar strings. Then I begin to stroke my pussy up and down the column in his pants, and again. His hold on my hips tightens. The pain slithers down to meet the friction in my core, the combination of which turns my entire center into a forest fire of sensation.

"Oh, my god." I throw my head back and close my eyes, focusing on that part where I’m abrading my pussy into the thick pillar between his legs.

He releases his hold on my hip, only to circle my nape with his thick fingers. And when he drags his stubbled chin over the sensitive skin of my throat, goosebumps pepper my flesh. Pinpricks radiate out from the point of contact to circle my nipples, then zip down to my clit. It’s like every erogenous part of my body is on high-alert, and the parts I didn’t think could be turned on have developed a beating heart at their center. My entire body has turned into a mass of tactile awareness. The blood thuds at my temples, and my pulse booms in my ears, at my wrists, even in my clit. My nipples throb, and my breasts are so heavy, it feels like there are weights attached to them.

He whispers his nose up my jawline and sniffs deeply. And the act is so erotic, so carnal, like he’s breathing me in, like he wants to trap my scent in his lungs and carry it around with him, like he wants to imprint how I smell into every cell in his body, which makes it so very intimate that I feel the pulsing sensation in my clit expand out to my thighs, my belly, then speed up my spine. My entire body has turned into a tsunami of feelings, where every inch of my skin can sense more intensely than I ever have before.

His hold on my neck tightens. It’s reassuring, and also… Strangely, arousing… And oh, so possessive. I draw in a breath and come up empty. The burn in my chest seems to ignite every cell in my body. My head spins. In response, I squeeze down on his throat and feel the pulse at the base of his kick up in speed. It mirrors the thud-thud-thud of my heart, the whoosh of blood in my veins. My toes curl, my back curves, and when he places his mouth next to my ear, loosens his grasp on my neck so the oxygen rushes into my lungs, and commands, "Come," I shatter.

The orgasm crashes into me with the impact of a freight train and pushes me over the edge. I float in space, weightless, filled with a euphoria I’ve never experienced before. The happy hormones course through my bloodstream, and when they fade away, I slip against his chest. He tucks my head under his chin, cradles it at the nape of my neck, and holds me in place. The funny thing? It doesn’t feel constricting. If anything, it wraps a sense of security about me. Any remnants of tension from my shoulders bleed out, and I yawn. He drags his hand down the length of my hair, and it’s soothing but also turns me on.

He must sense it, too, for he chuckles. "Still horny, hmm?"

I try to speak, but it comes out as another yawn. He rises to his feet and suddenly, I’m in his arms. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you to bed."

"What?" I begin to struggle, but when his arms tighten, I subside. "I need to clean up and lock down for the night. I have a cake in the oven.”

“Did you set a timer?”

“Yes.” I point to the minute timer on the counter next to the oven.

“Do you have a cake tester?”

I point to the timer; the tester sits on the counter next to it.

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