Page 82 of Line Change

“Make love to me, husband.” She wiggles against me. “I’m so close.”

It isn’t lost on me that she asks me to make love to her, not fuck her, and that’s what I plan to do. That is, if I don’t come the minute I’m inside of her. I think about defensive plays, trying to stave off my orgasm.

“Wife. Stay still, or this will be over quickly.” I line myself up and slide inside of her.

“It feels so good like this. I can feel all of your piercings everywhere.”

“I know,” I breathe out. “You feel like heaven.” Like home. Like mine, forever and ever.

Her pussy squeezes me, and I know she’s close. I reach around her and circle her clit with my thumb as I thrust in and out of her. She shifts, dropping to her elbows.

“You alright?” I ask, slowing my movements, wanting to make sure I’m not hurting her or the baby.

“I’m fine. Don’t you dare slow down.”

I quicken my pace, sweat dripping down my back. The only sound is skin slapping against skin. I run a hand over the globes of her ass and squeeze gently.

“You like that?” I ask, doing it again, but I already know the answer based on how her pussy is fluttering around me.

She hums in response.

“Are you going to be a good wife and come for me?”

I reach around and circle her clit a few times with my thumb as I piston in and out of her, and then she’s yelling out my name and garbled words that I can’t understand.

“Fuck.” The tingling at the base of my spine starts. This time, I won’t be able to stop my orgasm, and even if I could, I don’t want to.

“Yes. Yes,” she chants. “Your turn, husband.”

That’s all it takes for me to tip over the edge. “So good, wife,” I growl as my vision goes black for a second.

When I finally catch my breath, I’m sweating, and my legs are shaking. I carefully pull out, my focus dropping to where my cum is dripping out of her. Bloody hell, that’s hot. I slip my fingers through it, pushing it back in.

“Are you pushing your cum back inside of me?”

“Yeah.” She moans. “Do you want to come again, wife?” I ask, moving my hands from her pussy and stepping back.

“In a little bit.” She rolls onto her back.

I lean over and kiss her belly. Her eyes flutter shut. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Do you want to shower, or do you want me to get you a washcloth?”

“Shower, please.”

I scoop her up and carry her into the bathroom.

“Will you tell me about this?” I ask later when we’re lying in bed after our shower and round two. I trace the phoenix on her back as she lies on my chest. I can guess the meaning, but I want to hear what the tattoo means to her.

She traces one of my tattoos with her tongue, and my dick wonders if she’s going to move farther south, and now I’m thinking about what it’d be like if she wrapped her mouth around me, took me to the back of her throat, gagged on me.

“Not a whole lot to tell,” she says, and I force myself to focus on her and not my dick begging for her lips. “Rising out of the ashes. Rebirth. I got it as a fuck you to my father, if I’m being honest. He hates tattoos.”

“I love it,” I tell her, running a hand over her back. “Suits you.”

“Thank you. Will you tell me about this?” She taps on my necklace.

“My dad gave it to me for my twentieth birthday, right before I played my first game in the NHL. I’ve worn it ever since. It brings me luck.”

“It’s hot,” she says, peppering kisses on my chest.