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He switched between watching my hand to looking at me, his mouth slack with pleasure. He breathed slowly, some of his exhales coming out as quiet grunts when I got the pressure or the angle just right.
When his erection was hot and hard in my hand, he placed a hand on my breast, kneading it once before tracing his fingers down my sternum, over my stomach, and then between my thighs. He dipped those fingertips between my inner lips, testing to see if I was ready. When the sound of slickness rang out embarrassingly loud, I unconsciously tightened my thighs, feeling my face flush.
“Nothing to be ashamed of, baby,” he said. “I love how wet you are for me.”
I nodded, the pace of my hand only faltering for a moment before it picked up to tempo. It seemed not to matter, though, because he grasped my wrist and lifted my hand to his mouth again to kiss my palm before setting it on his shoulder, a small expression of thanks for helping him get hard for me.
He positioned himself between my thighs, and I felt a little silly to be surprised by our doing missionary position. It used to be all I did once upon a time, but Cole rarely ever tried the same thing twice. I braced for him to enter me, knowing it would be a tight fit. Before he did, though, he grabbed a pillow, lifting me to slide it under my hips.
“You’ve been liking that trick lately,” I said breathlessly.
“I think we’re both in a battle over who likes it more,” he teased. “Besides, elevating your hips can help conception.”
“You sure do know a lot about this.”
He bit back a laugh, looking away only for a moment as he pulled me closer by my thighs. “Marley, baby,” he said, “you know I don’t believe in blaming my wilder side for my behavior, but there are certain things that really are biological. I’d be lying if I told you I’d never touched myself to the idea of breeding with you.”
“Really?” I asked. “When? What did you think about?”
“Are you going to make me stop this and tell you right this second?” he asked dryly. “I’m no stranger to delayed gratification, but that’s a little cruel, don’t you think?”
“I didn’t say you had to stop,” I pointed out, flushing again. “I mean, if you can’t chew gum and walk at the same time...”
His eyebrows shot up, his brow faintly wrinkling in surprise. “Oh, are you challenging me, sweetheart? Is that what this is?”
“I’d never dream of challenging you.”
“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t,” he said, pulling me flush against him. “Not with how competitive I can be.”
I gasped as his hard cock slipped against my clit, my legs faintly twitching as his length pressed against my wetness, angling up toward his belly button. It was torturously close to what he’d been promising me a few seconds before. I wanted to grind myself against the underside of him, use him as my own personal toy.
“Baby, you’re out of breath. Are you okay?” he asked with playful cluelessness. “Should we stop?”
“You don’t mean that,” I said. “Stop being mean.”
“Mean?” he repeated. “I would never be mean to my beloved mate, my perfect wife. But I may indulge in teasing her just a little bit.”
“See also: mean,” I retorted.
He laughed loudly as he looked down at my body, his cock pressed up against me. “Well, baby, even though you’re not challenging me, I’m going to accept the challenge anyway,” he said. “Let me tell you exactly what I thought about while I lay in bed, dying to have you on my cock.”
He started to move his hips then, granting me the very thing I’d craved seconds before. The wetness between my lips created a slick surface, brushing against all the sensitive surfaces between my thighs without giving me the ultimate satisfaction of having him inside me, stretching me to my limit.
“I’ve imagined a lot of scenarios, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “So many different ways it would have started.”
“Y-you have?” I asked, unable to tear my eyes away from the curving trajectory of his erection against my vulva.
“Mmm,” he said, blessedly not calling me out for my ogling. I was grateful because I loved looking at it. The faint upward curve, the strong, rounded ridge on its underside, the faint slope and shine of the tip I’d so happily had deep in my throat so many times now. “In the beginning, when it had been a while since I’d gotten off, I imagined running into you while on a jog. Imagined fucking you against the trunk of a tree. Not even waiting for you to get your cute little running shoes off, just ripping right through those thin leggings, pushing your panties aside, and driving myself up and into you.”
I could see it in my mind’s eye—Cole giving me that charming smile, whispering sweet nothings in my ear until I melted into his hands like putty. I could imagine my knees hooked over his strong arms as he used his hands to split the seam of my running pants. I could almost hear myself wailing as he rutted into me like an animal.
“I know you think I wouldn’t like to share, and you’re right,” he said, doing one torturously long stroke against my lips. “But no one could stop me from fucking you in the wild, sweetheart. I’d laugh if they even tried. I would hold you captive until both you and I got the pleasure we’d earned.”
“Uh-huh,” I whispered.
“You getting distracted baby?” he asked, reaching between us as he stopped grinding against me. “Maybe we should stop until I finish telling you the story.”
“N-no, I heard you...torn pants…against the tree…” I gasped.
