Page 116 of Buckled in Barbwire

“I don’t want to fuck you in this dress.”

My arousal falters, the warmth dropping to a mild simmer. I laugh to avoid pouting. “Um, okay.”

His smirk is a distraction, catching me off guard. “I want to make love to you instead.”

“Oh,” I sigh.

“But we have to make it fast.”

Lust rekindles in my veins and I snap into action. “Are you hard for me, boss?”

“Always.”

My gaze lowers to the bulge straining against the seams. “Will you show me?”

“Be a good little wife and do it yourself.”

I don’t hesitate. Routine and desire compel me to move quickly. My swift motions unbuckle his belt and pants, reaching inside tented cotton for his dick. He’s hard and eager in my palm as I give a trial stroke. A grunt puffs from him when I squeeze his shaft.

Brody’s hands hover over the bell shape that flares outfrom my hips. I lift a leg to wrap around him. That doesn’t work with what I’m wearing. He tries to hike up the bottom half of my dress, but the bulk doesn’t get past my knees. The mountain of fabric is like a shield against him. He grinds out several foul words while attempting to flatten the fluff again. It rebounds almost instantly.

A fierce scowl scolds my dress. “Why is there so much of it?”

“Too much?” I giggle.

Determination flashes in his gaze. “Never.”

“It’s a ballgown style. Extra poof and material for structural integrity.”

“Won’t let it stop me.”

And he doesn’t. Somehow, the multiple layers of tulle and satin get bundled at my waist to give him access. After he hoists me up against the wall, I’m able to cinch my legs around him. Fingers slide under the elastic of my thong to find me wet and ready. He tugs the scrap of silk to the side before wedging his hips between mine. A tremble writhes through me when his tip nudges at my opening.

Brody pushes into me slowly, forcing me to accept all nine inches in one stroke. My exhale is stilted as I try to relax against the pressure. I should be used to taking his girth by now, but there’s still a dull ache whenever he enters me. There’s no getting accustomed to a man like Brody Benson. He’ll keep me guessing until we’re wrinkled and gray.

Our eyes lock in a lover’s embrace. There’s so much emotion swimming in his bottomless depths. At this moment, he’s letting it pour out for me to see. Only me. That gets my body thrumming for more of his. My hands griponto his shoulders for balance while his hold me against him. Brody’s next thrust manages to shove him impossibly deeper. We’re joined as one.

“Love you, wife.”

“And I love you, husband.”

Brody rumples the designer couture beyond repair just to kiss me. Our mouths fuse while his need fuels mine. Heat builds and expands. We move together to chase a fast release.

His tongue slides along my bottom lip. “You look stunning, Mrs. Benson. Lace and luxury looped around your hips. Should’ve done this much sooner.”

“Took a while to plan.” Not to mention waiting until everyone could safely attend.

“But we’re here now.” He punctuates that meaning with a flex of his hip.

I arch against the onslaught, a mewl spilling from me. “Yes, we are.”

Brody slips in and out at a leisurely pace. “I have a surprise for you when we’re done.”

My vision is getting hazy. “Another one?”

“Gonna keep ‘em coming.”

Tingles erupt from my core. “Not sure I can handle more.”

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