Page 114 of The Woman in the Garage

“Anything that I don’t have to cook,” Dasha said, leaning her head against me. “I’m going to go sit in the living room while we wait.”

With that, I ordered Chinese before joining her.

“Hey, no,” I said, taking the toys out of her hands that she was trying to straighten up. “No kid stuff. We can deal with that tomorrow. Come sit with me.”

Dropping down on the couch, I patted the spot next to me.

Dasha was clearly grateful for an excuse to relax, kicking a little stuffed animal out of her way before falling down onto the couch, resting her feet on my thigh.

I reached out, grabbing one foot and starting to rub the ache out.

It wasn’t often that she was left alone with all the kids like she’d been. I’d just been called in to help on a big job with one of my brothers, so I’d been away from home a lot more than usual the past week.

Clearly, my girl needed a little pampering.

But you can’t blame my cock for stirring as she moaned and sighed through one foot rub, then the next.

Lifting one leg, I pressed a kiss to the inside of her ankle, watching her for her reaction.

When her gaze cut to mine, there was heat sizzling in her eyes.

That was all the encouragement I needed.

I shifted up onto my knees as her legs spread like an invitation as I kissed my way up her calf, the side of her knee, her thigh.

Dasha reached to pull her skirt up as I settled between her thighs, pulling her panties to the side, and running my tongue up her cleft.

A shiver coursed through her and her hand slapped down on the back of my neck, holding me to her like I had any intentions of moving away until she was writhing and moaning.

My tongue circled her clit as two of my fingers slid inside her. Her walls tightened around them, and her hips rocked in rhythm with their thrusts as I drove her up, up, up.

“No, wait,” she cried, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling me away. “No, I need you inside me,” she said, her tone desperate, making my cock twitch.

I damn sure wasn’t going to deny her that, now, was I?

I moved away, dropping onto my ass and working my belt free as she pulled off her panties.

“Come over here,” I demanded, fisting myself at the base, “and ride my cock.”

A little whimper escaped her at that as she moved to straddle me.

Her gaze held mine as she positioned herself, then took me inside with one long movement.

When I was settled deep, she let out a little moan, pressing her forehead to mine for a second.

My hands went out, taking her straps down, then the bust of her dress. And, finally, I removed her bra so my hands could slide up and cup her breasts. I rolled her nipples as her hips started to rock. Slowly at first. Then harder and faster as the need overtook us both.

“You ride my cock so good, baby,” I groaned, leaning in to press my face between her breasts, breathing in her familiar honeysuckle scent as her walls tightened around me. “There you go,” I said, voice tight as I sat back to watch her. I’d never get sick of how gorgeous she was as she came. Her skin all flushed, her eyes heavy-lidded, her lips parted. “Come on my cock,” I demanded.

Then she did, the pulsing of her pussy taking me right along with her as her cries filled the empty house.

“Missed hearing you like that,” I said as she fell into me afterward, her warm breath on my neck, her heartbeat hammering against my chest.

The kids had brought untold amounts of joy to our lives. But I knew we both missed our loud, uncontrolled lovemaking sessions that had led to their existence in the first place.

“And being able to do it right when and where the mood strikes,” she agreed. “I wanted to climb you like a tree yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah? When? What was I doing?”

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