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Craig grunted.
And I sucked.
He grunted again.
And I sucked him deeper.
Licked him wetter. Sucked him harder. Massaged his balls. Then sucked them. Stroked him. Guilt brought me between his legs. Desperation forced me to give a porn star-worthy performance.
I sucked and gulped and swallowed Craig deep into my mouth and down my throat until his hand clamped around the back of my head, his hips joining the pulsing rhythm of my mouth and throat.
Craig growled. His grip around my head tightened. And then he was stabbing up into my mouth, mercilessly jabbing the back of my throat until a thick rope of heated seed flooded the back of my mouth.
• • •
I take a deep breath and cough as Charles looks up from the deposition transcript in his hand. There’s a glint of amusement in his eyes as he looks at me. “You think your husband knows what?”
I take one of the two chrome-and-leather chairs in front of his desk and sit, crossing my legs. “About us.”
He raises a brow, and grins at me. “Exactly what is it you think he knows…about us?”
I shift in my seat, uncrossing my legs. “You know exactly what I mean. I think he knows I’m cheating on him.”
“With me?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, maybe.”
“Well, which is it?”
Suddenly, the muscles in the back of my neck tighten. “He doesn’t know for sure. But he suspects it. He flat-out asked me last night if we were fucking.”
“Okay,” he says calmly. “And what did you tell him?”
I give him an incredulous look. “What do you think I told him? I told him no.”
He smirks. “So you lied.”
I tilt my head. “Wouldn’t you?”
“You need to figure out how to keep your husband happy,” he says, ignoring the question.
I roll my eyes, but nod knowingly.
“Listen. I’m not interested in getting caught up in any marital drama. No matter how good the pussy is.”
I cringe. He says this as if I’m some disposable piece of ass.
Bitch, because you are!
“So, you’re still sleeping with your wife?” Immediately after I say this, I want to slap myself for asking such an asinine question. Of course he’s still fucking her! Why wouldn’t he be? She’s his wife, for God’s sake.
I stiffen as jealousy I know I don’t have a right to possess edges over me.
As if he’s reading my thoughts, he says, “She’s my wife. I fuck her to keep her happy. And you should be doing the same. Handle your business at home. There’s no reason for you to be denying him pussy unless you want problems. Withholding pussy makes a man’s mind wander. The last thing you want is, him becoming more suspicious than he already is.”
“It’s too late. He already is.”
“Then you need to spend some time putting his mind to rest.” He slides his gaze up the length of my legs. “We have a good thing going, baby. I’d hate for you to mess it up.”
