Page 83 of Worth the Vow

“Honey, I can’t be quiet,” I whimper, and much to my chagrin, Dominic stops completely and sits up.

“Don’t call me that,” he snaps.

“What? What did I call you?” I’m delirious with need. I can’t remember my own name right now.

“You called me honey. She called me honey. You are not the same. Just — don’t call me that,” he says, his voice trembling with tension.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t connect the two,” I tell him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. Maybe I’ve heard Savannah say it in passing, but I never connected it. “What can I call you?”

“Could — can you call me baby? I always wanted a woman to call me baby,” he says tentatively. Oh, my heart. Self-conscious Dominic might be my favorite, because I know he’s trusting me more than anyone else. I think I’ve become his safe space, and I couldn’t be happier.

“I’d love to call you baby,” I say softly, and the answering smile Dominic gives me is breathtaking. “I think I’d do anything if it kept that smile on your face.”

He chuckles quietly before looking down at the ground. “You know my heart is in your hands, right?”

My breath catches as I take in his words. “I’ll be extra careful with yours if you take care of mine.”

He looks up, his eyes clear and sincere. “Always. You’ll never regret marrying me, Katharine. I promise you that.”

I slide off the chair and into his lap, pushing him back. “I’d never regret you. I love you, Dominic.”

His voice cracks slightly as he responds, “God, I love you, too, Katharine.”

Dominic pulls my face down to take my lips in a deep kiss, rolling us so he’s on top. The blanket Dominic put down before our escapades tonight provides some safety from the prickly grass, but I can still feel it poking onto my bare skin. I forget all about it once he slides back down my body, continuing his lazy tour of my core.

With my eyes open, I look through the large trees scattered throughout the yard to see hundreds of stars in the clear night sky. An airplane zooms past, and I wonder if anyone thinks about what people are doing on the ground. Would they be embarrassed or turned on to know my husband is currently eating me out below them? What about the neighbors, can they see?

“What the hell did you just think about?” Dominic mumbles, his voice vibrating against my pussy. “You just drenched me. Where’s your mind at, wife?”

God I love when he calls me that. “I wondered if the people on that airplane would be turned on to know you’re licking my pussy right below them, then wondered if your neighbors can see us.”

“Who fucking cares if they can see? Let ‘em watch,” he says deeply, then attacks my clit with a vengeance. When I cry out, I cover my mouth with one hand, using the other hand to hold Dominic’s head tightly against me. When he slips two fingers into my channel and pushes against my G-spot, I explode, managing to come silently in an excellent orgasm. Dominic maintains his pattern, extending the feeling as I shudder through many aftershocks.

“Why would you want them to watch?” I ask finally, once I’ve come down from the wave of pleasure.

“I was mostly joking,” he says as he kisses each of my thighs before climbing up my body. He points to the house on the right, saying, “They go to bed incredibly early, and their bedroom faces the street. Plus, they’re old, so for them to see us right now, they’d have to climb a ladder to see over the fence, and I just don’t think they’d do that in the dark.”

I can’t help but giggle when I think about Mr. And Mrs. Brown trying to watch us in the dark over the six foot privacy fence that separates our properties.

“Now, Mick next door? His wife left him when she found out he cheated on her, so he lives there alone. I wouldn’t have put it past him until I ran into his wife a few months ago and she explained why she left.”

“Why?”

“Because Mick used her as a beard.”

“Huh?”

“He’s gay, Katharine. So I’m pretty sure I can have you out here without worrying about who might be watching.”

“Oh,” I say, laughing. I had no idea there was a term for that. But I’m glad Dominic’s house is on the edge of his neighborhood, backing to an open space, with a line of evergreen trees along the back property line.

“Now,” Dominic says, bending down to kiss the spot under my right ear, “May I continue?”

“By all means,” I giggle.

“Then help me take off my pants,” he commands, standing up. I immediately scramble to get on my knees, determined to get him in my mouth. Dominic has stopped me every single time I’ve attempted to give him a blow job, and I don’t know why. As soon as he undoes his belt, I yank his boxer briefs down, and suck him into my mouth. “Holy — Jesus, Katharine!”

Back in high school, before my mom was really sick, my best friend Megan and I would practice how to give blow jobs using bananas. Is it a great idea? No, especially if a teenager is a little overzealous with enthusiasm and pushes the banana too hard, thus making the end scratch the back of her throat and then requiring a doctor’s visit, where she has to explain the issue in front of her mother. Zero out of ten, do not recommend.

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