Her teeth sink into her lower lip because she’s embarrassed, but she shouldn’t be. I love it when she tells me what she wants. She might be innocent, but she has a wild spirit that’s been aching to be freed, and I’ll gladly give that to her.
Reaching down, I unzip my jeans and pull out my aching cock. Her mouth falls open as I stroke from root to tip. I’d love to paint her lips with the excitement leaking onto my hand, but I resist.
Emery swallows, watching me.
She wets her lips like she’s imagining the same thing I am: her dropping to her knees and wrapping her mouth around me. I can already see the tears springing to her eyes as I’d shove deeper. I can picture her cheeks hollowing, taking me exactly as I need her.
It doesn’t matter if she was a virgin the first time we fucked. Her body was made for me, and that simple fact makes everything right. She’s my dream. My everything.
I stroke my cock again, my gaze falling to her cunt. “Do you like seeing what you do to your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Because I want you to fuck that perfect pussy with your fingers until you come for me. And then I want you to stick those fingers in my mouth so I can taste you.”
Another perfect little gasp escapes her lips. She sinks two fingers in, grinding the heel of her hand against her clit. Any embarrassment she had when I first walked in here slowly washes away. Her gaze is transfixed on where I’m stroking myself. We match each other’s movements. We’re apart physically, but our souls are tangled together.
Pressure pools in the base of my spine, but I refuse to let go before she does. Even as the sound of her fucking her cunt with her fingers makes it nearly impossible.
I need to see her let go. I need her to accept this is what we are. This is what we bring out in each other. I need to ingrain it in her mind that there is no escaping this feeling that ignites the moment we’re in a room together.
“Hayes, I’m so close.” She’s panting, getting more vocal as she gets comfortable.
I love that she trusts me. Even when I’m doing everything wrong, she knows I’ve got her. To everyone else, I’m a loose cannon. But for Emery, I’m the anchor. For our family, I’ll be something I never envisioned—a good father and a better man.
Emery continues to ride the edge, so I lift my palm and spit into it, which has her moaning. Her fingers keep a steady pace as I fist my cock, and she doesn’t take her eyes off me as I stroke myself for her. Those eyes make me want to paint her face in cum. To mark her as mine in every way.
She’s my world.
My wife.
To think that she could have married anyone else makes my teeth clench. I fuck my hand harder at the thought just to work that anger out of my system.
Emery’s body starts to shake. Her breath quickens. She draws her lower lip between her teeth as she falls hard and fast. And when our eyes connect, I watch her tip over that ledge. Her shoulders relax, and she lets go.
Face flushed.
Body writhing.
Emery’s fingers are glistening as she pumps them in and out, shaking around them. She rides the orgasm hard and long, savoring every wave that crashes through her before she finally pulls her hand away and melts into the mattress.
But I’m not done with her yet.
“Come here.”
Emery lifts her head, angling it as I continue to stroke myself. In the haze of her climax, it takes her a moment to process what I said, but when she does, she lifts off the bed. Her T-shirt brushes her thighs, hiding her, but I know what’s just beneath, and that makes it even more tempting.
She stops in front of me, close enough for me to reach for her with my free hand. Her skin is as soft as I remember.
Everything good in this world.
“I want to taste what you just did.” I tip my head back, looking up at her.
She only hesitates for a second before lifting her fingers to my lips and grazing them over my mouth. When I open, she drags them across my tongue, breaking the last of my restraint.
My fist pumps as I suck the taste of her off her fingers. She’s so sweet.
A drop of heaven.
