Page 91 of My Husband Problem

I don’t have to question if she wants me. That ismyfucking name on her lips.

I drag in a deep breath, and yes, it’s definitely my body wash, but I can smell her arousal underneath. I kiss her thigh again, then flick my tongue over the skin.

She gasps and moans.

“Yes,” she says raggedly. Her finger rubs over her clit in circles. “God, I want your mouth here,” she says.

“I will put my mouth wherever you fucking want it,” I tell her.

I lean in, kissing my way from her thigh to her mound, then placing a kiss right over her clit. Her panties are plain white silk, and there’s something about them that I love. She wasn’t planning this, this isn’t a seduction, she isn’t using her lingerie to make me nuts. This is just a moment that’s happening between us, unexpectedly, but real and without anything extra needed.

“More, please,” she begs.

After all the time apart, after she packed up and moved, after all of her efforts to get me to leave her alone, and even her suggestion that I divorce her, part of me wants to tease her, make herreallybeg, drag this out, but I can’t. I’m driven to make her happy, give her everything she wants and needs.

And if she wants my mouth on her pussy? No fucking problem.

I lean in with a soft growl and press my mouth harder against her silk-covered clit. I breathe hot air onto her, and she moans.

“Make me come, please,” she begs.

I suck her gently through the cotton, then slip my finger underneath the edge of her panties, brushing over her clit with the pad of my finger.

She chokes out my name, and her hips lift closer to me. I brush over her clit again, then circle gently.

“Yes, yes,” she chants.

My woman is a little firecracker. Damn, I’ve just started, and she’s already shifting and writhing beneath me, sounding like she’s on the verge of coming.

“Let go, sweetheart, just feel it. Go with it,” I urge.

I pull the cotton aside and look at her for the first time. “So fucking gorgeous. Look at you. Perfect.” She’s wet and pink and all mine.

I rub my finger over her clit again, then lean in and flick my tongue against the sweet spot.

She tastes amazing, and I wantmore. When she cries out my name, my cock throbs, wanting her slick, hot glove around it. Now. I lick her again, then suck the sensitive nub into my mouth.

And that’s all it takes. She goes off, crying out, pulling on my hair, her hips pressing up closer to my mouth as she comes.

Unbelievable. She’s so hot and unexpected and exciting and beautiful.

I turn my head to kiss her inner thigh. “Jesus, Astrid. That was gorgeous. My little firework.” I stroke my hand up and down her thigh. I want to make her do that again. I need all of her, in every way.

Suddenly, her entire body tenses beneath me, and I lift my head quickly.

She’s staring at me, her blue eyes wide, pupils huge. All at once, she starts pushing against the couch cushions, scrambling to get away from me.

“Oh my God!” She pushes up, nearly knocking me in the chin with her knee. “Holy crap! What…what did I do?”

I sit up quickly, concern coursing through me. I keep one hand on her thigh, but let her move back, putting space between our torsos. “Astrid? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

She pushes her skirt down, then runs the other hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. Now her eyes are glued to my mouth, and it’s clear she’s piecing everything together quickly.

Her face turns bright red, and suddenly, tears are shimmering in her eyes.

“Oh my God.” Her voice is choked when she says, “that wasreal?

“That was very real, Firework,” I say, keeping my voice low and even.