Page 8 of Wife for Now


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He grins and walks toward me, to where I’m standing in between the open windows of the balcony. “I’m very competitive, you know.”

I have to suppress a real smirk at that. “Oh really? I didn’t notice—how many times did you make the whole office play that card game Carl taught us, until you finally got good enough to win every single round?”

He smirks back. “Pretty sure I started winning by the end of the first night.”

I narrow my eyes. “Still. What about your competitiveness?”

He tilts a head back toward the wall, nodding at it casually. “Well. I’m competitive about my marriage, too.”

“Obviously, or you wouldn’t have brought me all the way out here just to win a bet.”

He loops an arm around my waist and pulls me against him, startling me. I suck in a breath, my eyes locked on his, which are suddenly just inches from my own. His face is so close I can feel his breath caress my cheek. My lips burn all over again, longing for his once more. “I don’t just want to win this bet, Celia, I want to dominate it.” The way he says dominate makes me clench my thighs together, suddenly all too aware of the heat between them, and how wet I’m starting to get just at the thought of that. “I’ve already got a smoking hot wife. But I’ll need Paul to hear just how hot our marriage is, too.”

“H-hear… what, exactly?” I manage, proud of myself for only stammering a little bit. My heart trips in my throat.

“How hot our sex life is, of course.” His hand slides down my curves, tracing the line of my waist to my hips. My heart beats faster, especially when he pulls me against him again. This time there’s no mistaking the hard press of his cock against my belly, still as hard as he was before. It sends a thrill through me, and makes my thighs clench harder, my pussy already dripping at the thought. Just knowing that I have this effect on him, that I make him this hard, makes me feel powerful, seductive. Sexy as hell. “I’m going to have to make you moan tonight, Celia.” He trails a single finger up the edge of my jaw, tilting my face toward his. Our lips are barely a breath apart now. I can hardly think; he makes my head swim so much. “I want our neighbors to hear you screaming my name with pleasure. So everyone who hears knows you’re my sex-kitten of a wife.” His fingertip reaches my neck, and he slides his hand around the nape of my neck, cupping me tightly. “So they know you worship your husband’s cock.”

I catch my breath, my eyes on his mouth. I couldn’t look away now if I tried. “Well… if that’s what we’re going for…” I summon my nerve and meet his eyes, my own gaze probably hot enough to start a fire right about now. I want him so fucking badly. I have for months. For a whole goddamn year. “Maybe we’d better start practicing again,” I say, my throat almost closing over the words, over how bold that feels.

But to my relief, Luke doesn’t balk at the thought, or back down. Instead, his smile just widens, sharpening around the edges. “You read my mind, Celia.”

He kisses me again, and this time it’s not tentative or hesitant. His lips sear into mine, and he walks me back one step, two, until I back up against the window next to the balcony doors. He flattens me against it, just before he pulls his mouth off mine. I gasp in protest, but he doesn’t go far. He just tilts my head back, his lips tracing a trail down the front of my throat, his tongue darting into the indentation of my clavicle like he’s tasting me. A full-body shiver goes through me, starting at the top of my head and working all the way down to my toes.

“God, Celia,” he breathes against my skin, his breath even hotter than his tongue. I moan a little, parting my legs at a touch from his palm. He slides one hand between my legs, all the way up to cup my pussy through the fabric of my sundress, his fingers curling against me so strongly that even with panties on, I can feel their heat, and I can feel how wet I’ve become too.

“Are you as hungry for me as I am for you, Celia?” he whispers.

My clit feels swollen and heavy with want. All I want is for him to keep touching me, up until he spreads my legs and fucks me. But his hand slides away, back up my waist until he reaches my breasts. One hand cups my breast tightly, massaging, as his thumb runs over my nipple. Even underneath my bra, I can feel myself starting to harden. “Fuck yes,” I breathe.

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