Page 109 of Winning Bid

Anderson kisses down my collarbones before settling on my breasts when he pulls out. He cups my breasts, rolling my nipples with his fingers until my back arches against him. Every touch sends a spark down low, as though I weren’t already on fire for him. I can’t hold still with him working me like that, and a mewling sound escapes me. He runs his tongue where his fingers had been, cooling where I’d been hot as he blows on the slick skin. I shudder, and he looks so damn proud of himself.

I’m sure he’s about to come back up when he dives down lower until he’s seated between my thighs, his face mere inches from my pussy. “Better make sure you’re ready for me this time.” His tongue swipes up over me, and my every muscle clenches, hoping for more. He doesn’t disappoint.

He runs his thumbs along my folds, parting me open for him. Even though he’s as eager as I am, he takes his time tasting me. My hips jerk and start—I’m too lit to hold still now. This feels so good I might die. When he sucks on my clit, I’m ready to explode, and I’m sure he’ll get hurt down there from it. But then a finger enters me, and I am lost to every sensation. He drives me gasp by gasp to the edge. The tip hits my G-spot, and a lush, lazy orgasm drags through me, starting at my clit and annihilating everything in its path. Drunk with pleasure, I call out his name, and it’s all the invitation he needs.

Anderson shoots up my body, an arm hooked beneath my thigh as he glides into me. I’m still coming when he does, and the sudden intrusion of his thick cock makes it all hit differently. He groans when he feels me squeeze on him, whispering, “Fuck, baby, I love you.”

I want to say it back, but alas, I’m still gasping.

He drives into me, rolling himself deeper on every stroke. He hooks into my spot and works his hips at that angle to make me come again. It’s like he’s found the cheat code to my orgasms, and he’s determined to earn them all. One after another hits me, stealing my breath. I’m lost inside my body, with pleasure ricocheting across every inch of me.

He looks into my eyes, and I know that he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. I hook my hand around his neck and pull him to my lips. I need that mouth on mine the way I need air. I jut my hips up to his rhythm, meeting him on every thrust. I never want to stop. This love has taken over everything we are. The need to breathe, to think, to eat. We’re just two animals chasing pleasure. Husband and wife. Woman and man. Beast and beast.

His body starts to seize, and I know he’s close, but I don’t want it to end. This feeling is too good. It’s not even just the orgasms anymore. It’s him. Keeping him inside of me where he belongs. I want us to be linked forever. But he hisses and bucks like he can’t stop himself, and now, I want that, too. I want to feel him come inside of me. I need that.

I groan, “Come for me!”

He unleashes that last bit of control he’d held onto, thrashing into me like a madman as he comes, murmuring, “June,” like a prayer against my lips. He pours himself into me until his body goes weak. I hold him, stroking his scalp with my fingernails to enjoy the shiver that strikes him when I do it. My fingers will smell of my husband’s shampoo in the morning, and the thought makes me smile.

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53

ANDERSON

Ipant over June, “Is it possible to fetishize your own wife?”

She laughs which makes her inner walls squeeze on me, pushing me out. Odd feeling. I roll off of her, trying to catch my breath as she says, “I don’t know. What makes you ask?”

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever get enough of you.”

“Give it time. We’ll be old marrieds, tired of the way the other one breathes or chews one day.”

“Nah. Not buying it.” I clutch onto her thigh, enjoying the way she startles when I do it. “You could be covered in liver spots and cellulite, and I’d still want to bend you over the back of the couch.”

She belly laughs. “I can’t tell if that’s the worst pillow talk or the best.”

I grin at her, happy to see her relaxed again. After running into my folks, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see her like that tonight. “Shower?”

“Ooh, yes, please.”

I get the water scalding hot on her side, medium for me, then return to the bedroom. “Your fiery shower is ready, madam.”

She snickers, rolling her eyes. It’s the cutest when she does that because her nose crinkles and she looks almost innocent. Once in the shower, though, there is nothing innocent about June. She is the sexiest naked, wet woman who ever lived. “Why are you just standing there? I thought we were getting clean?”

“I’m distracted by the hotness that is my wife.” Fuck, just saying, “my wife,” is enough to give me a semi.

She giggles and turns to me. “I know what you mean, husband.”

When she puts her hands on my chest, it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. There is nothing else in existence. Just her. She traces the outlines of my muscles, and that featherlight sensation makes my balls throb for her. My cock stands at attention, still aching from what we’d just done. But I don’t care. I want her again. I reach for her, but she intercepts my hand and kisses my palm. The look in her eyes is enough to drive me crazy. “What?”

“I want to know what my husband tastes like.”

I move forward to kiss her, but she drops to her knees. She braces herself with one hand on my lower abdomen, but with her free hand, she cups my balls as if weighing them and testing them. The best kind of massage. Tension builds deep inside of me, vibrating my spine with every touch. She then runs her lips loosely over my shaft. That sensation is an odd tease, not enough to get me anywhere good, but all the more delicious for drawing this out. When she gets to the tip, though, the teasing ends.

June’s tongue cradles the head of my cock before she swallows me down. Suction is too delicate of a word to describe what that woman does to me. She’s trying to remove my soul through my dick. It’s as if her mouth has become the place my cock longs to be. Her excitement for the act enthralls me. The tip of her tongue traces every vein and curve while her hot mouth takes me deeper and deeper until I meet the resistance of her throat.

And then, deeper still.

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