She gasps, hands flying out to clutch my t-shirt.
I smirk. Beneath me, my wife is wearing one of my dressshirts. Considering I’m so much wider, so much broader than Annaliese, it hangs on her frame. As I move my knee, making her ride my thigh, the shirt rising, falling, rustling in time to her frantic breathing as I stimulate her pussy.
She’s not scared, though. I asked her once. Is she afraid of her husband… and when she told me she wasn’t, I believed her. I’d be a piss-poor husband if I frightened my own wife. All I want her to know is how serious I am. How much I hunger for her… how much Iwanther… how much I fuckingloveher.
“Do you understand me, love? I’m not the man who hurt you. I’m not the man who threw you away. I’m stupid, but I’m notthatstupid. I have you. I told you back at the cabin the only way you can get rid of me. Where’s the knife, Annaliese?” I squeeze her side. “Did you bring it? Or are you all alone with me, completely defenseless?”
I would never hurt her. She has to know that. If she didn’t, I would have much bigger problems than I already have. I’m teasing her, both with my words and the way I keep dragging the denim of my jeans along the thin material of her leggings.
Her mouth trembles. Her fingers tighten in my shirt.
I press her deeper into the tree with my body so that neither of us can go anywhere. I’m still not trying to frighten her. Nope. I’m anchoring her there, keeping her from running, keeping herfrom pretending that I’ve reached my limit. I want her. I caught her.
Now I’m going to take her.
I give my wife one chance to stop me.
“Say something,” I beg, the seductive edge obvious in my voice.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she gasps.
“You could say ‘stop’. You could tell me to let you go. You could tell me that you don’t want me… I just want honestly, love. That’s all I’ll ever want.”
Besides her. I will always want this woman, and I’m sick and tired of pretending that I don’t.
Marriage of convenience?
Fake marriage?
Never—and now she knows it.
Annaliese looks up at me. Her eyes are big, wide doe eyes, as she says softly, “If you want honestly, Sebastien, then I can’t say any of that.”
Fuck it. That’s all the permission I need.
Dropping my head, I release my hold on her throat at the same moment that I crush my mouth to hers. Instead, I brace my palms on either side of her face, the bark scratching at my skin, the taste of her mouth enough to make me ignore the scrapes as I dig my fingertips into it.
Her hands fly up, gripping my shoulders, nails digging into my skin. Without my leather jacket, I feel it as it cuts into my flesh; feel it, and revel in it. Especially when my wife arches into me, kissing me back like she finally gave herself permission to want me, too.
This is different. Since the night at the Court when she showed me her jealous side, having that slap fight with Hilary, I’ve been fucking Annaliese regularly. She just needed to know that I wasn’t sleeping with the Used on the side. Once I promisedher that I wasn’t… once she realized that she trusted me enough to believe me when I told her that I didn’t want to be with anyone but my wife… she’s been sleeping in my bed, curling up next to me, and if part of me has a hard time getting past the idea that she’s only doing it to satisfy a clause in that goddamn contract, I ignore it because at least I’m burying my cock inside of my wife every chance I get.
Including now.
Only… thisisdifferent. Because when I fuck Annaliese—when sheletsme—it’ll be with the understanding that the contract is gone. It never existed, sure, but she’s wearing the remnants of it around her neck. I want to fuck her becuase I love her, and not because a perk of being her husband is getting my hands on that sexy little body whenever she’ll let me.
Dragging my hands over her shoulders, down her side, I pause when I reach her hips. Shoving my hands behind her back, cushioning her, I pull her harder against me. Back to kissing her, her surprised gasp is swallowed by my lips.
I only pull back only when breathing stops being optional. Lightheaded and so fucking horny, I’m prepared to fuck through the tree to get to her.
But, first, I glance down at her.
Her face is flushed, eyes glazed, lips swollen from my kiss.
“Sebastien…” she breathes. “Babe.”
My cock twitches to hear her finally give me a pet name of her own. “Yes?”
She swallows. “I shouldn’t want this.”
