Page 14 of Maldives & Mistletoe

EIGHT

Abriella and Tommas

TOMMAS

Tommas no sooner had the door to the vacation hut shut, and he was already heading across the open floor to head for where his wife was still happily sleeping behind sheer curtains. If there was anything he disliked about this vacation spot, it was the fact that inside the huts, there was very little privacy from the children.

Which meant he wasn’t getting to love his wife nearly as much as he needed and wanted to. But he had—at most—one hour to spend with his wife before the guys would be waiting outside to head on their … business portion of this vacation, and he planned on using every single one of those minutes to his advantage.

He doubted Abriella was going to complain, honestly.

Tommas wasted no fucking time stripping out of the night clothes he’d pulled on the evening before. By the time he was on his side of the bed, he was already naked and hard. So was his life with this woman sleeping unaware on the bed. He went to sleep rock hard, and woke up with a steel rod every fucking morning. He got turned on simply by watching his wife doing laundry. If it weren’t for responsibilities and life getting in the way, he’d keep his wife in bed all the damn time.

He was so weak.

Pussy weak.

Sliding into the bed next to his wife, Tommas didn’t even bother to try and wake Abriella up slowly. In nothing but a silk nightie that barely covered her bare ass, the only thing he really wanted to do was get his hands and lips on her body. So, he did just that.

His hands pushed her nightie high while his lips found her throat first. He knew the second she woke up from the way her pulse picked up under the nip of his teeth. Her soft gasp echoed into the room, filling him up with a lust like nothing else. He kept kissing her even as her murmurings filtered through his senses.

“What are you … oh,” she breathed.

He dotted kisses down her throat, and over the toned expanse of her stomach after he’d pushed her nightie high enough to free her skin to his mouth. He loved the taste of his wife first thing in the morning. It was just about as good as how she tasted after sex, really. Like sweetness and salt—uniquely her with a touch of him.

Because God knew he was all over her.

Constantly.

Like an animal urge he just couldn’t fucking kick no matter what he did. Every single person needed to know this woman was his, and he didn’t forget to remind anyone who might have thought differently.

“Jesus Christ, Tommy.”

Her words were high, and airless.

The way he liked them best, really.

He planned on getting them far louder when he got his head buried between her thighs. Abriella knew it was coming; he could feel it in the clench of her stomach when his tongue traced her navel, and the way her hips lifted to press against him. Her fingers threaded into his hair and tugged hard enough to make his scalp sting when he finally slipped between her thighs properly.

His mouth found her sex, and Tommas was done for. Harder than granite, and grinding against the bed as he ate the heaven between his wife’s thighs. There was nothing easy or sweet about the way his tongue lashed at Abriella’s clit again and again. It wasn’t like she cared for soft and sweet, anyway.

She wanted to come. Each stroke of his tongue and the harsh way his fingers dug into her inner thighs to keep her thighs from locking around his head had her back arching off the bed, and her cries rising impossibly higher.

Sweet Jesus.

He adored his name in his wife’s mouth.

Pleading.

Loud.

Perfect, really.

“Oh, my God, Tommy, please …”

It was only once he drew her throbbing slit between his lips, and sucked hard that she finally came undone on the bed. Those fingernails of hers dragged through his hair as she tensed all over, and a shout left her lips that echoed in the quiet hut. Her trembling rocked them both, and for a second he enjoyed the sight of his wife as she panted her way through her first orgasm of the morning. If he had his way—and he would because he always did—it would be the first of fucking many.

Tommas didn’t give Abriella time to recover before he was sliding back up her body, leaving hot kisses that tasted like her come in his wake. Her gaze locked on his as her heavy breaths began to even out, and she graced him with one of her wicked smiles when his fingers wrapped around her throat right under her jaw. Pushing her head back into the pillow, he dropped a kiss to her lips that seared him from the inside out. There was something about the way his wife’s lips worked against his, how her tongue darted in and out of his mouth to get as much of her taste as she could from his lips that drove him crazy.