With the hand in her hair tightening to slow her rhythm, which throws me closer to an orgasm I’m not ready for, I pull out of her mouth.
My cock gleams and she licks her lips.
“You taste so good.”
“Who’d have thought you were such a filthy slut for me?”
“But you love it.” She lies back and spreads her legs, smiling.
What the fuck have I done to her?
There’s no sign of the shy bookish thing Margot reintroduced into my life. Not when she’s splayed out in front of me like a seven-course dinner.
I know it’s my fault, and there’s an evil pride in that.
I’ve unlocked a sexual demon or a goddess. I’m not sure which yet.
I yank off my shirt and my pants, stripping down before I crawl up over her.
“I love what I see right now,” I say.
And I love that you’re mine until this is over.
I love that I’m going to be obsessed with fucking my wife daily.
I don’t dare say that shit out loud.
I’m not that stupid.
This isn’t about making her mine for real.
It’s about enjoyment, the stress relief, making the best of this weird situation that suddenly isn’t torture.
She’s so wet, I push into her with a single thrust, the head of my cock stretching her soft cunt.
Instant heaven.
Best fucking thing that could ever happen.
Better than her mouth, even, and that was so good I almost blew my nut down her throat.
“Shit,” she breathes, angling her hips so I can bottom out in her depths.
I brush the hair back from her face. “How good does that feel?”
“Amazing.” Her eyes flutter closed. “So good.”
She’s got that right.
“So damn good,” I repeat, thrusting inside her again with an animal urge. “Sofuckinggood, Hattie.”
I hate how I can’t hide it, how pussy-drunk this woman makes me.
She has the power to make me lose my goddamn mind like no one else.
I bend down to suck on her nipple, growling into her skin.
First one, then the other.
