She moans in frustration. “You’re infuriating. And cold. And manipulative. Mercenary.”
“And?” I prod.
“And sometimes, I can almost actually stand you. Happy?” she says petulantly.
Smirking, I give into her, sliding my longest finger inside her as I reposition my thumb over her clit. But I don’t do anything else. I give her just enough so she can feel me there, right on the cusp of getting her off, without giving her any real, deep stimulation.
“Armani, come on!”
“Tell me. I know there’s more.”
Kissing her neck, I bite right above her collarbone. She jerks under me with a gasp, but I don’t let go, her tender flesh so vulnerable between my teeth.
“Tell. Me.”
She knows exactly what I want, and she’s going to say it, even if I have to drag it out of her. Thrusting another finger into her, I sweep my thumb over her clit. Candi instantly cries out and tries to clamp her legs around me, but I withdraw my hand and shift my hips away. Her eyes flash as she whips me a desperate look.
“Say it,” I demand.
“Say what?”
Look at her. Cheeks flushed, eyes ablaze. So stubborn. So furious with me for doing this to her. But so fucking horny at the same time, and nothing will convince me otherwise.
“Say. It. This is the last time I’ll ask, and then I’m walking out.”
I start to withdraw my hand, and that’s what finally breaks her.
“Fine! You want me to tell you that I love you? Is that what you want to hear?”
A smile pulls at my lips. “Good girl.”
My face is inches from hers as I work my pants off with my free hand and then pull her panties to one side.
“Now say it again.”
Candi gasps as I rub the fat tip of my cock against her soaked center.
“I love you,” she moans. “I…love you.”
So throaty. So raw.
I can’t hold back. With a groan, I drive straight into her, balls deep, connecting us undeniably. Her cry is loud, affirmative, ecstatic. I slide halfway out and then thrust again, watching the tears spring to her eyes.
“Mine,” I whisper. “Mine.”
She’s mine in every way. The perfect woman, the perfect wife.
“Now I want to hear you come,” I tell her.
I roll onto my back, taking her with me, giving her the freedom to ride me at her own pace, her own depth. She looks down at me as she grinds her hips, her fingers fumbling to release the buttons of my shirt until finally, my chest is bare. Leaning over me so her pebbled nipples brush my pecs, she latches her mouth onto mine, cooing softly in her throat as she sucks my tongue.
Bringing a hand between us, I work her clit, drawing deeper and deeper moans out of her while she rocks back and forth on my steel cock. Her thrusts get faster, harder, her tits bouncing against my chest with the force of her movements. With every hot, wet slip of her pussy up and down my shaft, I have to focus more and more on my self-control. I’m primed to explode.
“Armani,” she cries, breaking our kiss, and the sound of my name wrenching out of her throat is almost enough to send me over the edge.
But I don’t need to hold back anymore as Candi comes hard and tight on my dick, the contractions so deep that I can feel her muscles squeezing me. Grabbing her face and pulling her lips back down to mine, I groan into her mouth as I release everything I’ve got into her.
We ride out our orgasms together, perfectly in tandem, and when I open my eyes and find her looking right back at me, it only makes the euphoria more intense. My climax peaks and then, just as I expect it to taper off, it expands, stretches longer, impossibly sweeter, leaving me gasping and shuddering.
