Page 21 of Give It a Day
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten.” She scoffs. “Pass outlike I already did? In your car after you fucked me senseless? Before you dragged me to the wedding?”
There’s my vulgar wife, the very same who stripped under me in thebackseat of my car, practically begging for my cock. But if I remind her that, she might stomp away this time, and I want her alone with me for a little longer, even if it’s in my study. When she shifts, pulling at the hem of her dress, my mind is decided. I have to have her. Here and now.
A chuckle rumbles in my chest. “I have to admit, carrying you was quite enjoyable. Though not as enjoyable as undressing you again will be.”
“Flirt,” she says accusingly with a small smile, downing the rest of her second shot.
“It’s thetruth. You look absolutely beautiful, by the way.” My gaze brazenly roams over her. “That dress was made for you. And nice touch, still wearing the family heirloom.”
“I thought so too, you know, for selling the lie of the happy wife. And you don’t look so bad yourself, mydashinghusband.”
Warmth spreads through me from hearing those words, surprised by how genuine she sounds. “I think we might pull this whole reception off if we keep flirting like this,” I say, deliberately closing the distance between us.
She stands, leaning back on my desk. “And if we keep staring at each other like this…I think we’ll do more than be convincing.”
My eyes lock onto hers, and there’s that crackle of tension in the air again. “You’re right,” I admit, reaching out to gently tilt her chin up. “We can’t keep staring at each other like this without doing something about it.” My thumb caresses her lower lip, wondering when it stopped swelling from my bruising kisses, and finding myself needing to correct it this instant.
“Shame we have a reception party to host so soon…” She has the nerve to tease me again, kissing my thumb with her pretty, pink lips.
My heart is racing, her hold over me making my composure crumble. “Fuck the party,” I growl, my other hand coming up to grip the back ofher head, her hair feels soft as silk in my tightening fingers.
“But our families put a lot of effort into it…” She’s mocking me with words I said earlier. They bring out that roaring drive out of me, to pounce on her, to put her in her place.
“I can make it quick.” I lean in, my lips hovering above her. “Even if I don’t want to.”
“I thought the party was important. You know, to mingle with your fellowinvestors.”
She laughs softly as I hold her by the back of her thighs, lifting her to sit on top of the desk, and positioning myself between her legs. It’s enough to make the hem of her dress pool around her hips, revealing her lace-covered pussy.
I watch her closely, noticing the stark difference of her defiance back in the car and now, on my desk where files of filthy secrets are neatly piled. The look in her eyes and the way her lips curve tell me everything I need to know—she wants me too.
“You’re playing nicely for a change, Kayla.” I briefly kiss her to tease her back after all the teasing she’s done.
“Call me Kaye,” she says in a sultry whisper as she grabs me by the front of my jacket and sharply pulls me even closer to her. “I’m your wife now, aren’t I?”
My gaze narrows in on her. She’s all I see, no longer noticing that I’m in my study that holds enough dirty secrets that could destroy empires.
Instead, she’s everything I see, feel, and breathe in.
I pull her into another kiss, deepening it while my hand slips up her thigh to hike her dress’ hem higher.
“Kaye…” I say her name in reverence, right against her moaning lips.
I only pull away, breaking our kiss, to watch her spread her legs eagerly for me.
“Good girl,” I growl, feeling the heat in me rise by the second.
My fingers reach her lace thong, and just as I did in the backseat ofmy car, I slide it to the side. She’s mine, so I don’t need to ask when I want to take anything from her. Sliding my fingers through her warm and wet folds, I groan long and pained, dying to feel her tightness again.
My ring finger glimmers with my wedding ring, all the more reason that it’s the finger I slowly press inside her, because she belongs to me as much as I belong to her.
I hear her pant and moan while my eyes are glued to my ring finger thrusting into her. “Do you feel the coolness of the ring around my finger, Kaye? Do you like knowing your husband is doing this to you? Making you fall apart with only a finger?”
She rolls her hips, her hands reaching for my shoulders to steady herself.
“Good girl, take what you want,” I whisper, resting my forehead against hers. My free hand grips her hip firmly, feeling the silky fabric of her dress. My mouth finds her neck, kissing her there in a way that matches how my ring finger is fucking her, while my middle finger slides through her wetness, rubbing her swollen bud, pink as a rose.
She chants my name, and her melodic voice, along with the sounds of her juices coating my fast fingers, mellow me into a state I’ve never been in before—a calm satisfaction that surrounds me like I’m sinking into warm water, never wanting to leave.
