Page 166 of Seale the Deal

Unlike her gown, I don’t give a shit about a single stitch of my clothes. I shrug off my jacket and fling it aside, tug my tie loose until I can whip it over my head. Wrenley’s already started on my shirt, but impatience wins. I rip the rest open, buttons scattering across the floor. Her eyes darken, like the destruction turns her on.

She fumbles with my belt buckle, and I help, pushing down my pants and briefs. Next, I tug her thong to the floor. We meet in the middle, desperate, as I lift her into my arms. Her legs wrap tightly around my waist, her mouth finding mine again, ravenous.

I lower her onto the bed, hovering over her, just staring. My wife is spread out beneath me, flushed and perfect.

Her hand curls around the back of my neck, pulling me into a kiss. God, I love being wanted like this. Loved like this.

I don’t know if I can handle foreplay, baby, I admit against her lips, my body practically shaking with the need to be inside her. The thought of burying myself deep, of being the last man she’ll ever know this way, makes my chest ache and my cock twitch. My eyes catch on the band circling my finger, and my heart surges.

Her eyes burn into mine. I don’t need foreplay. I need you. Her voice is rough, wrecked already. Then she grins, just a little. Besides, isn’t consummation the other half of marriage?

I groan. God, I hope so. I reach into the nightstand. Still, I’m going to take care of you.

I tear open the condom, and precum beads at the tip of my cock. Wrenley swipes her finger across it and slips it into her mouth.

My vision blurs. Christ, Wrenley…

I roll the condom on, then drag myself slowly through her slick heat. She squirms, breath catching in a sound that makes my whole body clench.

I press the head of my cock against her entrance, then pull back just enough to see her wetness glisten on the condom. She once told me it was only like this for me. And seeing that proof now… it nearly makes me lose it.

I push in, slow, deliberate. Inch by inch, she stretches around me, and her moan splits me wide open.

I draw back, then sink in again, a little harder this time.

Please, she gasps, clutching at my shoulders.

Please what? My voice roughens around the word.

Her head tips back, eyes blazing. Please fuck me.

Chapter 36

Wrenley

WEDDING NIGHT… DEFINITELY

Fucking Ruger has always been hot. Always been good. Literally, mind-blowing, toe-curling, ruin-me-for-anyone-else incredible. If I’m being honest, I don’t think I could’ve walked away from him knowing I’d never get to feel him inside me again. I’d go as far as to say his cock is quite the best thing that’s ever happened to my body.

But now? Now, I’m not fucking Ruger.

I’m making love to my husband.

And it’s like stepping out of my own skin and floating above the bed, watching the universe rearrange itself around us.

But Jesus Christ—if this man doesn’t speed up, I’m going to combust.

Is this bothering you? Ruger clicks his tongue, still moving in that slow, torturous rhythm.

It’s maddening, I say, meeting his gaze.

His grin says he knows exactly what he’s doing. Which is why I shove him. Hard. Our connection breaks, but I don’t care. I keep pushing until he’s on his back and I’m straddling his waist.

A wolfish smile spreads across his lips, dangerous and smug. What are you doing, wife?

Wouldn’t you like to know? I shoot back, breathless already.

He leans up, catching my nipple in his mouth, teeth scraping just enough to make me cry out.