Page 65 of Deadly Affair

“Is this new?”

She looks down at her cream dress and nods. “I only bought this one. Zoey and I spent most of the day buying school supplies for her to start school next Monday,” she answers distractedly.

“Where is little Zoey?” I curl my hands to stop myself from reaching for her again, even though I’m silently begging her to look at me. To bridge this distance and touch me. To prove we are okay.

“Asleep, Alaric. Like I said, it’s fucking one in the morning. How many twelve-year-olds do you know who stay up this late?”

Pissed, she turns her back on me, pressing her palms flat on the kitchen island to ensure she doesn’t use those sharp nails on me—but fuck if the edge of fury in her tone doesn’t make me want her to.

I lick my lips and lean closer, my swollen cock fitting perfectly in the crack of her ass. With my hands on her waist, I hide my head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her decadent scent.

“What’s the real reason you’re pissed at me, baby? Is it because I didn’t call, that I fucked up your dinner plans, or because deep down you missed me?” I question.

She brushes my hair back to look at my face.

“Honestly? Maybe . . . maybe the latter.”

“Does that scare you?” I ask, wanting to know.

She nods.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, baby girl. It scares me too,” I admit.

“Your hair’s wet,” she says matter-of-factly, and after a long pause, her brows pinch together as she runs her fingers through my freshly showered hair.

“Got caught in the rain,” I lie, making a mental note to dry my fucking hair before I come home next time.

In retrospect, I didn’t even need to shower tonight, but I could still feel my kill’s stench of desperation in my pores and I didn’t want to taint Layla’s creamy skin with the filth.

“You’re changing the subject,” I interject, wanting to move past my mishap.

“Am I?”

“Hmm,” I hum, nibbling on her neck. “You can say it, love. You’re fucking pissed at me because you spent your day fantasizing about my fat cock fucking you raw, and I took my sweet ass time coming home to give you what you need.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re full of yourself?” she rebukes, but the way her ass presses eagerly against my cock tells me she’s just as needy as I am.

“The only thing that’s going to be full is your tight cunt in about ten seconds. Now be a good girl and show me what’s mine.”

I palm her ass before hiking her dress up to her waist. Seeing the drenched splotch in the center of her panties makes me wild. Even when she’s mad at me, she wants me. I rip them off her and throw them to the floor.

“Alaric,” she whimpers in protest, but she knows as well as I do that this is happening.

“Bend over, wife. Let me see what I’ve been missing all day.”

She leans onto the kitchen island, giving me a perfect view of her ass. I kick at her heels, making her spread her legs wide so her glistening pussy is also on display. Without a second to lose, I kneel and lick her from her clit to her crack. The little moan that escapes her is the cutest thing ever, but tonight I’m more inclined to hear her scream in ecstasy instead.

I’ll beg for forgiveness with my head in her cunt and her taste on my tongue.

I dig my fingers into her thighs as my tongue plays with her clit and dives into her juices until my chin is coated in her cream. I eat her out like she’s the greatest meal she could have ever prepared for me. Starved for her, I plunge my tongue into her hot wet core, becoming even more ravenous with how her pussy clenches around it.

Fuck!

I could eat her for days and still never be fully satisfied, needing more of her sweetness. More of her hunger. More of her.

“Alaric, please,” she pleads, her knees threatening to buckle.

I stand up, grab each breast from behind, and pinch her taut nipples.

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