Page 165 of Butter My Biscuit

I lead her to the side of the house, and we hide in the dark as I press her against the house.

“Fuck, you’re hard,” she whispers as I kiss her neck.

“Look who my wife is,” I say. “Come on.”

Then, I take her hand, and we sneak off to the large tree where our old tree house is. I let her go up first. She turns around and looks down at me.

“Are you lookin’ at my panties?” She laughs.

“No, because you’re not wearing any,” I tell her, climbing up behind her.

She’s slightly slouched with her hands over her mouth. “You decorated.”

I move closer to her, laying her down on the bed I made for us. The fairy lights above give me the perfect amount of light to see her.

“Come here, hubby,” she mutters so seductively as she pulls my tie with her fist.

Her lips slam against mine, and we desperately kiss like we’re doing it for the first time, but that’s how it feels with her.

I unbutton the jacket of my navy suit.

She looks at me and smiles. “I think that thing might be your lucky charm.”

“I think you might be right. Or your kryptonite.”

“Both,” she whispers against my lips. “You feel it too, right? That … electricity.” She gently parts her legs, reaching forward for my belt, button, and zipper.

Sparks, electricity, every fucking time. It’s never gone away. It’s stronger than ever.

“Yes,” I tell her, meeting her eyes as she pushes down my boxers. My cock springs free, and I impatiently wait outside of her entrance, kissing her all over before I give her inch by inch. “You’re … intoxicating. Every part of you is addictive.”

Grace’s head falls back, and our soft pants fill the small space.

I put my finger over my mouth. “Shh.” I laugh. “Our parents are down there.”

“Shit,” she hisses, her back arching. “More. I need more of you.So. Fucking. Bad.”

When her mouth flies open, I slide my lips down her face and pepper kisses along her jaw. “Come for me,my wife.”

39

GRACE

His words break me, and the orgasm rips me to fucking shreds on the floor of the tree house. Then, soon, he’s chasing his release, then collapsing on top of me, and we kiss and laugh.

“If I could go back in time, I’d bitch-slap younger me. Because had I found sex like that … well, I’d probably be knocked up with eighteen kids right now,” I say.

He smiles against my skin. “Who says you still won’t be?”

“Considering I already want you again and I barely have my breath, you’re probably right, but I want to enjoy you—all of you—first. Enjoy the good, theus,like this,” I whisper.

He nuzzles against me. “I love the sound of that, princess. I don’t want to rush us either.We have forever.”

I run my fingers through his hair, then trail down his biceps and see goose bumps flood his arm. “You get them too?”

That little dimple is on full display. “Of course I do.”

I kiss him, and we clean up. Then, he slides his pants on, and we lie back on the bed.

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