Page 89 of The Marriage Policy

“How did I cheat?”

“I’m injured.”

“Your face, not your legs.”

“I’m still healing from my broken ankle.” He grins, tosses the lube onto the mattress, then joins me.

I take in his face again, somehow having let what happened slip from my mind.

“Don’t do that, D. Don’t feel bad. I was defending my man the same way my man would defend me.”

My heart shatters, in the best possible way. I wrap my hand around the back of Eric’s head and pull his mouth down on mine, pushing my tongue between his lips, trying to show him that yes, he’s my man and I’m his.

He smiles into the kiss, leaning over me. I can tell by his movements that he’s opening the lube and squirting some onto his fingers while we lose ourselves in the kiss.

I spread my legs farther when he works his hand between them, back behind my balls, until his finger finds my hole. He pushes inside me. The two of us continue to make out while he works me open with first one, then two fingers, in and out, twisting and probing and driving me wild. My body melts, adjusting to having something inside me and craving more.

“I’m good, Eric. I just need you to fuck me. I need my husband to fuck me.”

“Hell yes. I need that too.”

He pulls his fingers out, and I feel empty, so fucking empty while I watch Eric lube his pretty cock, and then he’s right there,still between my legs, staring into my eyes while the head of his cock pushes against my hole.

We both let out a moan when his crown breaches me, and then he’s hooking my legs over his shoulders, holding himself up above me.

“Tell me, D. Tell me to do it.”

“Fuck me,” I say just before Eric snaps his hips forward, filling me with his cock.

It feels so good, so fucking right, Eric stuffed inside me. He pulls back, then slams into me again, over and over and over, my blunt nails digging into his arms, while he works me over like his life depends on it.

“There’s nothing like it, not a damn thing in the world like being inside you.”

“Yes,” I agree, bed hitting the wall with each of his thrusts. “Nothing like having you inside me.”

He stretches me just right, his cock hitting my spot each time he pumps his hips. He’s said it before, but it bears repeating, having sex is great, but it doesn’t compare to having sex with your best friend, which has nothing on having sex with the man you’re in love with.

I’m precoming so much that it’s a smooth ride when I wrap my hand around my dick, stroking it in unison with Eric’s thrusts. He’s close to coming. I can see it in the way his jaw tightens, in the little vein protruding over his good eye.

“Do it. Come in me. Fill me up.”

“You. First,” he says choppily.

With my free hand, I pull him down so our lips meet again, quick and hard, as I continue to stroke my cock and Eric fucks into me.

“I’m in love with you,” he says against my mouth. “So fucking in love with you, always and forever.”

That’s all it takes, and I’m free-falling into my orgasm, jumping without a parachute, body splintering apart as I see stars, dick jerking in my hand, hot spurts of cum landing on my chest and stomach.

“Me too. God, me too.” He thrusts in again and unloads, cock jerking, his balls emptying one of Eric’s huge loads deep inside me.

When we’re both wrung dry, I wrap my arms and legs around him, pull him down so he’s lying on top of me, both of us sweaty and cummy and perfect.

I kiss him everywhere, shoulders, cheeks, forehead, close to his stitches. “What are we going to do?” I ask softly.

“What do you mean?”

“About us. Do we stay married? Is that kinda fast?”

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