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“Yes.”
“You told Chris and Alex that. You said you’re my husband and I’m your wife.”
“You are.” I never thought I would like saying those words out loud, but there was a weight that lifted off my chest the moment that statement was out in the open.
“And you care about me.”
“I do.”
“Like your wife or like your best friend’s daughter?”
“Both.”
She scrunches her nose at that, but she plants a palm on my cheek. “But it’s only sex, so I’m, like, your trophy wife.”
“You can’t be my trophy wife when you own as much as I do, Gwyneth.”
“True. But it’s still just sex.”
I don’t say anything, but I don’t need to, because there’s something other than water glistening in her gaze and the gray is warring with the green and the blue, slaughtering them to take complete control.
She releases my waist and I think she’ll make the short trip to the edge of the pool, but she dives underwater.
Is she going to be reckless again? Gwyneth and alcohol are clearly not the best of friends and I need to keep her far away from it in the future.
Just when I’m about to go under and shake the fuck out of her, she grabs my hips with both hands and unbuckles my belt.
What the…?
My dick, that’s been semi-hard since she dry-humped me in the car, thickens and hardens when she frees it with her tiny hands. Then she’s on the surface again, holding on to my shirt.
The water contrasts against her pale skin, the rosy tips of her tits hardening. I grab one of them and squeeze, making her moan.
“What are you doing, Gwyneth?”
She wraps her arms around my neck, using the water to lift herself up so that she’s at my eye level. “Fuck me, husband.”
My muscles tighten and my nostrils flare at her sure yet playful tone.
“You’re drunk, wife.”
“I can take you.”
“Are you sure you can fit my cock up that tight pussy? Last time, you said it was too big.”
“It’s okay if it hurts a little. I like it.” She wiggles around, pressing her tits against my chest. “Fuck me and make it hurt.”
“Why do you want it to hurt?”
“Because it means you’re giving me your all. And I’ll take it.” There’s a challenge in her eyes, a pure fucking fire that’s blazing in the middle of the water.
“You’ll take what?”
“Everything you have to offer and everything you don’t.”
My fingers dig into the flesh of her hipbone and it’s neither gentle nor soft. It’s rough and unapologetic because the challenge in her words is still burning and has to be put out.
“You need to learn your fucking place, Gwyneth.”
