“It’s been worse.”
“That’s not reassuring.” Her thumbs press deep and I close my eyes and feel my head drop forward. Her hands move up into my neck, down across my shoulder blade.
She leans forward to reach across my shoulder. Her hair falls against my arm, silky and so sweetly scented I want to bury my face in it. My entire body is oriented towards her, every breath, every atom.
She shifts her position slightly and her hand brushes down my side, across my stomach, fingers trailing over the ridges of muscle there. Then further down, over my belt buckle, the cold metal of it, and down further still. Stroking along the length of me through the denim. My cock aches beneath her touch.
“Need some relief here?” she murmurs.
“Lila,” I say. It comes out wrecked. I’m trying, truly trying, to be a good man here, but I’m only human and my wife has apparently decided that tonight is not the night for me to be good. “I said I was gonna be a gentleman.”
“You can be a gentleman tomorrow,” she says, her lips moving against my shoulder. “Tonight I want to take care of you.”
“Taking care of you is my job.” Even as I say it I know I’ve already lost this particular argument, because she’s touching me and we both know I’m not going anywhere. “You’re my wife.”
“And you’re my husband.” Her hand presses firmer and I exhale through my teeth. “Which means it’s my job to take care of you too.” She tilts her head to look up at me, her dark eyes warm and certain. “Let me.”
Fuck it. I’m no gentleman.
I’m a simple man and my wife has her hand on my dick.
I’m not walking away from this.
Chapter 33
Sweet Torture
SLADE
“Take your shirt off,” I say.
She bites her lip. “I thought you were being a gentleman.”
“Shirt off, sweetheart.”
Keeping her eyes on me, she reaches for the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head. Her breasts nearly spill out of the black lace bra and my hand goes to my dick on instinct, giving it a stroke at the sight her.
“Bra too,” I order, voice rough.
Reaching behind her, she unclasps her bra and lets it fall.
Fuckingfinally. I’ve been dreaming of seeing her topless for I don’t know how long now. The reality of her is even better than I could have ever dreamed. I can’t take my eyes off her full, lush tits, topped with rosy nipples begging to be sucked.
“God,” I say raggedly. “Look at you.”
Color moves up her throat. “What about me?”
“You’re so goddamn gorgeous,” I say. “I could come justlooking at you. But I gotta touch too.” I reach out and cup her breast in my hand, feel her breath catch. “Perfect. You’re absolutely perfect.” My thumb circles along her nipple and she shuts her eyes.
The confession tumbles out of me. “Every night since I met you, when I come, it’s thinking about you. And you being right down the hall from me, smelling hints of your perfume, you wearing my clothes like you do… it’s been torture, baby. The sweetest kind of torture.”
Her eyelids flutter as I pinch the rosy bud between my fingertips.
“Time to make it better,” she whispers. The soft longing, the affection in her voice, hits in me in my solar plexus. She wants me as much as I want her.
She works at my belt and gets the button, then the zipper. My cock springs free, flushed dark and already leaking, and her breath catches at the sight of it. Her cool fingers wrap around my cock and the groan comes out before I can stop it.
As she wraps her hand around me, I’m already leaking copious amounts of precum.
