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It lasts until we’re outside. Only then do I let her down onto her own two feet, but only long enough so that I can pin her against the wall of the restaurant, and do what I’ve been hungry to do ever since I saw her this morning—ever since we were torn apart by that intrusion at work.
I kiss her, hard and deep, my tongue slipping between her lips, my hands circling her waist. She arches up against me, with a soft little sigh of relief that makes me growl in response, because fuck, I want her. I want to claim every inch of this gorgeous, sexy, hard as nails woman.
I push her against the wall, and she raises one leg, just far enough that I grab under her thigh and yank her against me. My cock is so hard I’m sure she can feel it, even through the thick fabric of both my jeans and her own. My mouth leaves hers to trail down her neck, kissing and sucking and nipping at her skin, savoring the taste of her, salty and sweet all at once, with a hint of something light and floral, not quite perfume. Maybe the scent of her shampoo? Whatever it is, I love it. I can’t get enough.
I drink her in, tracing my hands down her sides, over the smooth planes of her curves. She shivers under my hands, and I grin down at her.
“See? It’s not so bad going public, is it?”
Her breath hitches then, and she glances to one side, only just now noticing what I knew all along. We’ve got an audience. Several other diners from the restaurant, and a handful more who hadn’t entered yet, all staring open-mouthed. The stares only grow more pronounced when the valet responds and tosses me back the keys. I flash Mara a jaunty wink and head toward the car, leaving her to rearrange her shirt, which had ridden up far enough in all the fuss to show a thin line of her pale stomach.
When she manages, she jogs after me, still glaring as she climbs into the passenger seat beside mine. “You did that on purpose,” she mutters.
“I told you, I won’t hide you, or this marriage.”
“But why?”
I reach across to trace her knee again, and she shivers, even despite all her protesting. “Why do you keep fighting this, I think is the more interesting question, Mara.”
“I never thought about having a husband,” she replies. “I want a career, not… not marriage.”
“Why not have both?” I arch one eyebrow. “I fully intend to.”
Her breath catches again, but when I steal a glance at her, just as I start up the car and pull away from the curb, it doesn’t seem to be because she’s resisting. She honestly looks like she hadn’t considered the possibility.
“I… don’t know. It’s always been an either-or proposition,” she says. “Either a husband and family or a career. I want the career.”
“Don’t limit yourself like that.” I shrug. And the look on her face tells me she’s never considered that point of view, either.
I don’t drive us far. One exit away, and then I’m swinging off the highway already, aimed toward the nearest dark alley.
“Where are we going?” she asks, her hands still tracing my forearm absently, as if she wants to pull me toward her, make me start touching her again, but she doesn’t quite have the guts to go for what she wants yet.
I flash her another grin, sly this time. “I can’t wait,” I say. I put the car into park at the mouth of the first dark, empty alleyway I can find, and grab both her hips, drawing her toward me. “I need you. Now.”
She hesitates, but only long enough to undo her seatbelt. And then she’s swinging her free leg across mine, straddling my lap, and I reach up to cup her face between my palms and pull her down into another hard kiss. While she’s distracted, I reach down to undo the clasp on her jeans and push them down past her ass.
She gasps, glancing out and around the car, worried someone will see us. But I just chuckle and hit a button on the dash, making the windows instantly darken around us.
“Relax,” I tell her, eyes alight with amusement. “I don’t plan on sharing every aspect of our marriage with the world.”
She arches an eyebrow, amused. “Just the part where you touch me under the table in the nicest restaurant in the city?”
I scoff. “That hardly counted. I wasn’t about to make you come right there.”
“How do you know?” She tilts her head, frowning.
My smile widens. “Because, my darling, you not only have an incredibly sensitive, tight pussy.” I emphasize this by sliding one palm under her panties and cupping her bare, clean-shaven mound. “But you are so very easy to read, too.” I stroke her with my thumb, in slow circles, just above her clit, which I can already tell is aroused as hell thanks to my touching her earlier in the restaurant. “I know exactly how to get every response I want out of your body, if you let me,” I tell her.
At that, she arches into my palm, her hips twisting as she grinds against me, her breath coming shorter, faster.
I smile and slide my hand back out, making her twist to a halt, her lips still parted with frustration. Her throat works around a hard swallow, as she clearly bites back her instinctive response, to ask me to keep going.
Then she surprises me. She reaches down between us to cup the hard bulge in my jeans, her fingers digging into the seams a little, pressing around me. She shifts her palm back and forth, and I grit my teeth to stop a low, guttural sound from escaping.
The feel of her small hands on my cock only makes me harder. It makes me want to torment her more.
“Eager, are you, my darling?” I arch an eyebrow, and she pauses, her eyes narrowing.
“You’re the one who teased me throughout dinner.”
“Teased you?” I chuckle, completely unrepentant, and reach up to take her waist. In one swift move, I spin her around, leaning my seat back at the same time, so she’s pinned underneath me on the driver’s seat. “That was nothing.” I lean in to kiss my way down the side of her neck. When I reach the hem of her shirt, I slide one hand up underneath it, my fingertips tracing the warm plane of her stomach, up over her curves until they reach the underside of her breasts. Her bra is tight, but I trace around the back of it, my hands following the smooth, silky feeling fabric until I find the clasp.
“I know you know how to beg, my lovely wife.” I grin down at her. “I intend to hear you do it again.”
She breathes in sharply as I undo her bra clasp, tugging it off from beneath her shirt. Then, gently, I push her shirt up and out of the way, before my mouth continues its attack.
I trail my tongue down the center of her chest first, following the trail between her breasts, tasting her salty, sweet flavor. At the same time, I cup both her breasts in my hot palms, kneading them gently, her nipples beginning to harden against the flat of my palm.
When she starts to breathe a little faster, I run my thumbs across them, pressing down just hard enough to make the hard little nubs swell beneath the pads of my thumbs. I tilt my face to one side and gently nip at the soft, sensitive skin below her nipples.
She gasps, then sinks into a moan as I suck at the spot now, my lips soothing the bite before I nip her again, a little closer to the nipple.
Both her nipples are rock hard by the time I suck one into my mouth, my tongue toying with her sensitive bud, rolling back and forth across her until her back arches up off the seat.
At the same time, my hands slide down her waist, over the incline of her hips, my fingers digging in just enough to make her twist closer to me, pressing in, eager for the touch. My fingertips reach the hem of her jeans, and I slip beneath them again, toying with the edge of her panties as I shift my mouth to her other breast, licking and sucking until she’s moaning, her breath harder, faster.
I tilt my head back and grin up at her. “Tell me you want
your husband to fuck you,” I say.
Her throat works hard with a tight gulp. “I… that’s not… fair,” she manages, her eyes darkening.
I tilt my head with a smirk and shrug one shoulder. “Your call. I’ll do it as soon as you ask me nicely.” My eyes flash when they meet hers, and I can see the resolve in her gaze, the tightening of her jaw as my stubborn, sexy as hell wife decides she’s going to fight me on this.
Just like I’d hoped.
In one smooth motion, I finish undoing the clasp of her jeans and push them down over the arch of her hips. I’m greeted by the sight of bright red panties, silky and thin. It makes me grin.
“Someone was hoping for a naughty encounter when she got dressed this morning,” I point out.
Mara’s face flushes, almost as red as her panties. “Not necessarily.”
I tilt my head, still grinning. “No?” I flatten my hand, slip it underneath her panties. My fingers inch closer and closer to her mound, to the tight little center between her luscious thighs. “So you wear sexy underwear every day then? Good to know…”
“It just helps me feel more confident,” she protests. “When I’m… doing something… new.” Her breath goes softer, hitching, as my fingertips reach the creases of her thighs. I trace one after the next, digging my finger in, pressing against the soft, sensitive skin there. She’s clean-shaven, which only makes my grin wider.
“Something new, hmm?” I arch an eyebrow. “We’ll have to get creative then, since we already did so much…”
Her cheeks flare again, but she arches her hips up to meet my hand, too. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I’m sure.” With that, I shift my hand to the side, spreading the lips of her pussy with my index and middle fingers. She gasps, probably thanks to the cool air in the car. I can already tell just from the sensation of pressing my index finger between her lips, that she’s drenched. Her juices coat my finger in an instant, even more so when I begin to drag it back and forth along the length of her slit, slow and teasing.
