Page 84 of The Decoy

I move in closer and hold her hips firmly in my hands, anchoring her securely in place so she doesn’t lose her balance as I line my tip up with her opening.

“Hold onto the pillows, wife,” I command. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

I push forward in one long, slow, deep stroke.

Ellis cries out a high, shattered sound, pure pleasure that echoes off the high ceiling as I bury myself to the hilt inside her, the angle from behind allowing me to go deep. Every inch of my hard cock fits perfectly in her velvet tight pussy. Her internal walls grip me with desperate intensity, milking me hard. I have to pause, my hands digging into her hips as a low groan tears from my chest.

“Fuck me, you’re so tight,” I growl, leaning down and resting my forehead against her shoulder blade. I hold still inside, trying to maintain some control of my dick.

“Don’t hold back, Brody. Move,” she pleads, her hips rolling back against my thighs, demanding more.

I begin a slow, powerful rhythm, moving with deliberate restraint, pulling back, only leaving my tip inside her before driving back in, the sound of our wet friction and her heavy, gasping breaths filling the room.

I reach one arm around her waist, my hand covering the base of her bomb, holding her safe, supported, and grounded against my body, while my other hand grips her hip, driving the pace.

“Look at me, Ellis.”

She turns her head on the pillows, her cheeks flush, her dark hair tangled over her shoulders. Looking back at me with eyes dark with pure, uninhibited pleasure. “Brody, you’re so deep. Oh, God!”

“I’m right here with you,” I whisper, leaning over to capture her mouth in a messy, desperate kiss, tasting her mouth as I thrust faster.

My palm slides down from her belly to press against her clit from the front, adding intense friction in every stroke. The double stimulation is too much. The combination of the deep, possessive angle and the relentless rhythm sends her over the edge.

She goes rigid under my touch, her fingers holding onto the bedsheets, her head pushing back against my chest as her inner walls contract around my cock. She screams my name into the room, a long, shattering climax, ripping through her body in hard waves.

Feeling her pulse around me, squeezing me in tight spasms, shatters my last thread of control.

I drive into her three more times, hard, fast, and deep, before pulling her hips flushed against my thighs. I bury myself completely inside her and let out a primal roar against her shoulder as my release explodes through me. I come hard, flooding deep inside my wife, my body trembling, as I hold her tightly until every last wave.

Once I’m completely drained, I ease myself out of her, watching as my seed drips down her inner thigh. I catch it with my fingers, pressing them back inside her tight opening, pushing every drop of my cum back inside her where it belongs. She gasps as I work my fingers until I’m satisfied.

Only then do I reach over and grab tissues from the nightstand to clean us up.

When I’m done, I lower Ellis onto her side, easing her onto the soft mattress before pulling her body close against my chest. I pull the comforter over both of us, drawing her back against me and wrapping my arm securely around her.

Ellis lets out a long, peaceful sigh, her body completely relaxed in my arms, her hand resting over mine on her stomach, her thumb tracing the band of her new platinum ring.

“Now that,” she whispers, her voice husky and sleepy, “was exceptional.”

I chuckle, kissing the back of her neck. “I told you I’d always take care of you.”

“You always do, Mr. Vaughn,” she whispers as her eyes flutter and she sinks back against me. “You always do.”

I hold my wife tight against my chest, listening to the rhythm of her breathing as we both drift off into a deep, interrupted sleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Ellis

Today, May twenty-sixth, started out like any other day. The same persistent ache low in my back that I’ve tried to convince myself is from trouble getting comfortable at night.

I’m officially thirty-nine weeks pregnant and managing my work from my laptop propped against a stack of body pillows in our bedroom. Both dogs have been glued to my side the past few days, so I have Oshie lying next to me and Buck at my feet. A cozy little nest.

“You’re doing that thing with your jaw,” Brody’s voice rumbles from the bathroom doorway.

I don’t look up from my screen, typing out a response to our legal team. “What thing?”

Brody steps into the bedroom, looking ridiculously sexy in his workout clothes. Honestly, the man looks good in everything, and especially in nothing, and even with as exhausted as I’ve been lately, I still want him nonstop.