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“I’d rather you work a little Bang-Bang Barbie magic on me.”
“I bet you would,” she moaned. “Do we have a deal?”
She was close, so close to sweet release.
“Landon?” she breathed.
“Deal,” he growled.
He’d come out ahead in this bargain. Messing around with some highlighters and colored magnets seemed like a small price to pay to know he and his sixty-day bride could knock out a quickie lickety-split. He helped her lose the jean shorts, then slipped her leg over his shoulder, and feasted on his wife. “Sweet, so sweet, Harper Paige is my favorite treat,” he sang against her as he licked, sucked, and worked the woman into a frenzy.
“I think,” she said on a heated moan, “I want to be called Harper Presley-Paige.”
He looked up at her. “I’m about to make you come, and you’re talking about your name?”
“Then get up here and shut me up,” she challenged.
She didn’t have to ask twice.
He stripped off his T-shirt, lost his shoes, and shrugged his jeans to his ankles. His cock stood at attention as an electric current traveled down his spine. Want and insatiable need consumed his every thought.
“Take a breath, wife. I’m about to bang the words right out of you.”
“We could call you Bang-Bang Bart,” Harper teased as she flung her tank top onto the floor.
And hello, voluptuous breasts.
“If music is a bust, at least I have a killer porn name.”
She stared at his cock. “You’ve certainly got the equipment.”
The sexy banter with this woman sent a buzzy euphoria popping and whizzing through his body.
She flashed him a naughty smirk, then turned to grip the lip of the sink. He inhaled a tight breath as she presented him with an ass so goddamned gorgeous, it should be illegal. He gave his cock two rough pumps as he drank in his goddess of a wife.
He came up behind her and caught their reflection in the window.
She met his gaze. “I know you like to watch.”
Hell yes, he did.
He positioned himself at her entrance, then slid his hands up her torso and cupped her breasts. “I could watch you come over and over and never get bored.”
She arched her back. “I know. I’m amazing like that.”
“Somebody needs to bang the sass right out of you, Mrs. Presley-Paige.”
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” she replied, holding his gaze and challenging him like no one ever had.
He released her breasts, twisted her mass of chocolate locks in his fist, then gripped her ass. He thrust his hips and entered Nirvana. He tightened his hold on her hair, savoring the first seconds of sliding balls deep into his wife. He stilled and studied her reflection. Head back and lips parted, this stunning woman took his breath away.
He slid his hand between her thighs and massaged her sweet bud. She bit her lip and purred her pleasure. Ballads should be written about this woman. From the swell of her breasts to her soft curves, a man could easily lose himself to a woman with chameleon eyes.
She hummed the melody to the “Sweet, So Sweet”tune they’d crafted, and he rocked his hips in time with the beat. Bodies swaying to the rhythm, he pumped his cock in smooth strokes as he worked her with his hand.
“Just like that. I’m so close,” she said, arching her back and meeting him blow for blow.
And then a switch flipped, and he relinquished control to the slap of skin on skin. They were no longer two people craving carnal release. They’d become one, making music with their heated breaths and lusty gasps. Every muscle in his body stiffened as he hovered on the edge of release. Harper tightened around him, crashing into oblivion. He watched her lose control, bucking and writhing. She reached between her thighs and threaded her hand with his. Her fingertips brushed against his thrusting cock, and he couldn’t hold back. His orgasm hit like a wildfire ravaging a hillside, consuming everything in its path. Pumping and grinding, he worked her body, lengthening her release and ensuring she experienced every lip-biting, toe-curling sensation.
