Page 88 of The Marriage Policy

I pull away, put some soap onto a sponge, and run it up and down his back, then between his ass cheeks.

“Fuck,” Eric grits out again.

“I’m not doing anything yet.”

“It still feels good.”

I make quick work of washing him, then do the same to myself. I kiss him again while he rinses off, careful so his face doesn’t get wet, and then my arms are around him again, and I massage his hole.

I’ll never get used to this, but I’m so damn happy I have it.

“I want to eat you out,” I tell him. It’s something we’ve done a few times now, and Eric fucking loves it. I don’t know if I’ll everfuck Eric, and I’m okay with that. I’ve always loved bottoming, but it’s exciting that he likes his ass played with and eaten too.

“Yes. Christ yes.”

My heart rate shoots through the ceiling at the hunger in his voice. I pull back, then position Eric so he’s not under the spray, chest against the shower wall before I kneel behind him. He’s got the cutest ass—smaller than mine, tight and round with the lightest blond peach fuzz over it.

“Someone needs a tan,” I tease him…my husband, this kind, sexy man who is in love with me.

“I’ll sunbathe nude in the backyard.”

“One of the beauties of LA. It’s always sunny,” I joke before pulling apart his cheeks. His hole looks so damn tight, this small pink pucker that has my mouth absolutely fucking watering to devour him. “God, it’s such a pretty little hole, baby.” I rub it with my fingertip, then pull back and watch it clench and relax again.

“Lick me, husband. Please, I want your mouth.”

“Hold it open for me,” I instruct, knowing how much he likes it when I tell him what to do.

Without an ounce of embarrassment, Eric reaches back, grabs his ass, and pulls his cheeks apart. I look up at him, at the curve of his back and his face as he looks at me over his shoulder. There’s wanton hunger in the blue of his eyes, and I know he needs this as much as me, needs to cement the changes in our relationship in a primal way.

“You’re so fucking fine. Look at you, my best friend, my husband who wants my tongue so badly.” It feels good to be able to talk to him like this, to be myself and not feel any kind of shame the way Malcolm would have made me feel if I’d done this with him. There is no room for that between Eric and me. There never has been, and there never will be.

“Do it. I fucking need it. Need your mouth before I fuck you.”

My cock twitches. I can’t wait anymore, so I dive in, face all up in his ass, licking and sucking and tasting his hole. I could spend the whole night right here, making a meal of his ass.

“That feels so good. Eat me out. I’m dying for your tongue.”

I use my teeth to nip at the inside of his cheeks, then probe his rim with my tongue, flicking over it, trying to soften him up and push my way inside him. Eric pushes back against me, like he’s trying to ride my face. Next time, I want to lie down and let him sit on my face while I devour him.

I kiss his cheeks while I use one finger to press inside him. When I find his prostate, his body jerks in pleasure. “You like that?”

“You know I do.”

I continue to alternate between finger- and tongue-fucking him, working myself in as deep as I can. Eric makes hungry, needy noises, begging me to keep going, telling me how amazing it feels, his words interspersed withI’m in love with you.

I smile into his ass each time he says it, knowing he’s doing it on purpose so I have no doubt what he means. I’m still a work in progress. One admission won’t change my self-esteem or make me unlearn what my past and Malcolm did to me, but with Eric by my side, I know I’ll get there.

My cock is throbbing, and as much as I love this, my ass is hungry for him too. I need him to fill me, to fuck me and claim me and shoot his load deep inside me.

As if reading my mind, Eric says, “I can’t hold off much longer. We keep doing this, and I’m going to come. I need inside you first.”

“Me too.” I push to my feet, cock hard and heavy. I turn off the water, then get out and grab a towel for Eric first, before getting another for myself.

We laugh as we make quick work of drying off. “Race you,” he teases, and then we’re going even faster, wiping the towels allover ourselves, before dropping them to the floor and running for the bed.

I get there first and immediately fall to my back on the mattress.

“Cheater,” he teases.

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