Page 135 of Their Greatest Strength

My gag reflex has me stopping with only half of him inside before I’m forced to retreat. Thick ringlets of spit drip down the few inches I couldn’t fit, and I use my hand to spread them along the shaft.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he praises, dropping a hand behind him to rest on the bed while the other remains buried in my hair. “Just a little more. I won’t last if you keep going.”

I suck the tip into my mouth, then release it with a pop. “What if I don’t want you to last?”

“Then take what you want.”

It’s good enough for me.

Determined, I keep my fingers wrapped around the base of him and drop my head, taking him as deep into my mouth as I can. The salty flavour of him is familiar, and I can only blame our feeding habit for that. It’s a kink that I didn’t know I had but have grown to really, really love.

I’m hot beneath his heavy sweatshirt, and with only a sports bra on, my nipples are stimulated in the tight material with every rise of my chest. The centre of my leggings is damp, my panties sodden. Every inch of me is sensitive and aching, but I’m too focused on him to search for relief.

Every bob of my head and jerk of my wrist has him fidgeting above me and my hair wrapped another time around his knuckles. I whimper when he pulls on my hair harder than before.

The sharp bite of pain travels down my spine and spasms in my core, an invisible finger flicking my clit.

“Last chance to pull back,” he grunts, voice cracking.

I suck him harder, too focused on succeeding at this to heed his warning.

The veins along his shaft rub against my palm, the muscles throbbing as he sucks in a breath and releases my hair so he can hold my head in place. Gagging when he thrusts deep enough to hit the back of my throat, I don’t try to pull away.

“Fuck. Swallow it for me, Blakely. All of it,” he grunts before heat slashes my throat.

I press my tongue to the bottom of my mouth and swallow. His shaft slips further down my throat, and my eyes water and burn while he comes.

It goes on until tears drip down my cheeks and he’s swiping them away, pulling out to haul me over his body. He drops me onto the mattress beside him, hardly breaking a sweat after tossing me around like I’m a hundred pounds soaking wet.

I don’t have time to move from my splayed-out position before he’s hovering above me and yanking his shirt over his head. My eyes cross at the sight of his naked, tanned skin and muscles for fucking days. It’s been two months of being around him, and I’ve yet to not get tongue-tied because of how good-looking he is.

He’s the type of guy you see acting on a TV show and fangirl over for the next six months. Only I’m planning on fangirling over him for far longer than that.

“When you look at me like that, I do feel like a pretty boy,” he teases.

“You’re far more than a pretty boy.”

His grin is as sexy as it is nerve-racking. “Thank you, wife. Now, as much as I love seeing you in my clothes, I need you naked.”

“Have at it, then.”

I expect him to simply pull them off. I’m so, so very wrong.

My squeal gets swallowed in the mattress when he spins me onto my front and hikes my ass into the air. I’m a willing rag doll, and my silly fucking grin is freeing.

Jamie slowly peels my leggings and ruined panties down past my ass and thighs before maneuvering me to get them the rest of the way off. His sweatshirt hangs over my mouth, his cologne strong on the fabric as I breathe in quickly.

A grumble fills the air behind me, and two thick, callused fingers rub between my legs, feeling just how wet I am.

“Yeah, I knew I’d find you like this. Flushed pink and dripping,” he murmurs, sinking those two fingers inside without hesitation. “You’ll be able to take my cock tonight, won’t you, wife?”

“You’ll make it fit,” I moan, pushing my ass back into him.

“Of course I will. I always take care of this pretty pussy.”

The bed dips behind me, and I hold my breath, half expecting him to take me like this. I’d let him fuck me any way he wanted whenever he chose to, and that’s because of the unwavering trust I have in him.

It’s not his cock that breaches me, though. A long, wet tongue glides through my lips, replacing his fingers, seeking the same destination.

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