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Fiona: Orin yelled at you? I assume he doesn’t have the emotional maturity to accept rejection?
Gareth: Threatened me. Yelled, insulted. The usual. But it’s done with.
Fiona: I’m sorry. And I’m happy. I get to come home to our apartment, and you’ll be there.
Gareth: Absolutely I will be. And I plan on making up for lost time.
Fiona: You animal. I have work every day now, you know.
Gareth: Your work schedule is getting in the way of me feasting between your legs.
Fiona: Well, maybe I can pencil you in.
Gareth: Good girl. Make time for me. I promise, you’ll enjoy it.
Fiona: Tell me more. In detail.
Fiona: Actually, no, please don’t. This is my second day! I can’t get all flustered already.
Gareth: Picture holding you down with one hand while my other fucks your soaking little pussy, nice and slow, before I bend my face down to lick your clit, sucking you, drinking you, making you writhe and scream. I want you to soak my chin, you dirty girl.
Fiona: Gareth! I’m turning off my phone.
Gareth: I’m picturing your legs wrapped around my face.
I grin, but there’s no response. The poor girl really must’ve turned it off.
At least she knows what to expect tonight.
Chapter49
Fiona
“Oh,fuck,” I gasp as I come for the third time, his mouth between my legs, his tongue licking me in fast circles like a freaking demon. I’m naked, sweating, gripping the sheets. “Oh my god, Gareth.”
He laughs as he comes up and kisses me. I taste him on his tongue, that filthy man. He holds me against him, already spent, his orgasm down my throat. “That’s my good wife,” he whispers.
“You’re a bastard,” I say, grinning stupidly. Still in that lovely post-orgasm glow. “It’s late, you know. I have to be up in—” I check the clock and groan. “Five hours. Oh my god, I’m going to be exhausted.”
“I should let you sleep.” But he doesn’t release me.
I stay right there, head on his chest, listening to his heart beat.
“I’ve been thinking.” I talk quietly. I’m afraid that if I say this out loud, I’m going to screw things up, but I feel like it’s important to get this conversation out of the way. “You know, about our relationship.”
“What about it? I’m feeling very good about things right now.” He kisses my neck. “Actually, if you keep looking like that, I’m going to feel even better about it very soon.”
“Easy, boy,” I say, shivering with delight. This man is insatiable. And he’s insatiable forme. “It’s just that, we’re still married.”
“Yes, that’s true.” He says it like he’s stating a simple fact. That a very complicated, tangled web of emotions.
“Well, I mean, I’ve been thinking. We don’tneedto be.” I blink rapidly, not able to look at him.
He pulls back. I want him to return, to feel his body. I’m intensely aware of how naked I am. Covered in my own sticky liquid, smelling like his.
“Do you want to end our marriage?” he asks gently. Like he’s trying to coax a scared horse into running.
“I’m just saying that we don’thaveto be married. We can date, we can take it slow, you know? I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped.”
