Page 11 of Risky Vows

Pleasure rides me longer this time, and I tremble, a rush of heat spreading across my body. I produce odd sounds, a mix oflong-winded moans with some rough notes I didn't know I had in me. Then it's his turn. After a couple of thrusts, he comes with a growl that slices the air and fills me with his hot load.

Even as I fall on the mattress, head forward, not wanting to think, not wanting to talk, the revelation is clear. I like him fucking me. And that's a big fucking problem.

8

Massimo

"Black coffee? Is that all?" Colleen, my housekeeper, asks. She's run a tight ship at my house for the last few years, taking care of the daily stuff. She raises her thin eyebrow, then wrinkles crinkle around her blue eyes as she shakes her head.

"For now," I say.

She shrugs. "Back in my day, newlyweds had a robust appetite the morning after getting married."

I chuckle. Colleen certainly gets away with saying shit most people would not. But we have a good rapport, and she's only trying to look out for me. When she became my employee, she also needed help. Protection. Her husband was in trouble due to gambling debts. We took care of it, and even with her snarky comments here and there, I feel her gratitude.

"You must still be working your appetite in the morning, given how late you've been arriving the last few weeks," I say, to put her in her place.

She smooths her hand over her petite frame. "I joined a new yoga class. I need exercise to keep healthy at my age. Besides,don't change the subject. I saw your wife at the wedding last night but didn't get the chance to exchange more than a few words. How's she doing?"

"Good."

I look at my watch—nine am.

When I left the room an hour ago, Amara was still asleep.

She should be tired by all accounts. After we had sex, we fell asleep, and I woke her up a few hours later for round two. And then three.

All in the dark, as she requested.

The idea bothers me. It shouldn't. I've tried plenty of different kinks to keep an open mind about things. It was the notion that she didn't want to see me.

Annoyance crawls under my skin. Something was different when we had sex. Even when I could bet my life on her coming, I could tell that she was trying so hard to keep her distance.

Rationally, this works. I don't need a clingy wife who monitors my every move. It's the ideal scenario. But why does it bother me so much that even when she had countless orgasms, I could tell there was a part of her I didn't reach? A part of her I want to reach. Badly.

What could it be?

"Oh. There she is," Colleen says, her voice softer. "Good morning."

She's wearing workout clothes, a tight shirt with a matching pair of leggings. The outfit clings to her body, and my cock moves. Last night, I didn't get to see her naked, and even though I enjoyed her epic tits and curvy ass, seeing them would have been the cherry on top.

"Good morning, Colleen. We didn't get a chance to talk last night."

"Trust me, we will. Have a seat," Colleen says.

Amara smiles at her, then takes a seat across from me. "What's your schedule like?" she asks, and her smile dims when her eyes meet mine.

"Monday through Friday," Colleen says. "If you have any food allergies or need anything, I'm your woman."

"Perfect." She takes a bite of a buttery croissant. "Do you have any eggs?"

"Cook to order. How do you like them?"

"Scrambled."

"I'll be right back."

"She's a gem," Amara says.

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