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“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing me.
Before he turns me around on the couch, grabs my hips, and fucks me from behind.
Gareth’s kind and gentle. Except for when he wants what he wants. I take him deep, moaning as he fucks me from behind. Animal incarnate. Still he’s thinking about me as he reaches around my hips to stroke my clit, rocking with me, moving in a filthy, lovely, wet pace, until I come for a third time.
I finish him on my knees, and I swallow him. Like a good girl.
When we’re finished, beyond spent, I curl up beside him on the couch. He’s still half hard, his pulse making his shaft twitch. I kiss his chest, eyes squeezing shut.
“We should’ve been doing this from the start,” I whisper.
“I wouldn’t have gotten any work done these last couple weeks,” he says. “I would’ve been too busy fucking you.”
“Oh, dear. What’s going to happen to your practice next week?”
“I guess you’ll have to satisfy me over the weekend.”
I stare up into his eyes, grinning. “Think I can do it?”
“I sincerely want you to try.”
I laugh, kiss him, hold it there.
Chapter34
Gareth
We don’t retire to separate rooms that night. Instead, she follows me into my room. We shower together, put on comfortable clothes. She steals shorts and a t-shirt from my drawer. I lie there looking at her in only boxer briefs, admiring her lean body, her beautiful tits, her firm ass. She looks over her shoulder at me, smiling, that dazed, pleasured look in her eye.
Beautiful. Absolutely stunning.
“Do you want to know why I always ask you to put on your seatbelt?” The words spill out of me. I don’t know why I’m bringing this up now, of all times.
But there’s something in this moment. We showered together. We’re getting into bed together. She’s wearing my clothes, and I fully plan on taking them off and feasting on her tonight.
It’s intimate. So far, our marriage has been fake. Every time we’ve moved things to the next level, we’ve tried to pull it back before it went too far.
This feels like we’re crossing a line.
I want to keep going.
I need to live in this moment—because I don’t know when I’ll get another one like it with her.
She crawls into bed, snuggling against my side. “I figured you were just an overprotective asshole.”
“There’s that,” I say, smiling. “But it’s more. There’s a story I haven’t told you from when I was a kid.”
“Really?” She looks up at me, nuzzling against my chest. It’s affectionate, warm, something a wife would do to her husband.
“I was seventeen. Been driving for a year.” I close my eyes, breathing in the smell of her hair. Trying to keep calm. I haven’t told this story in a long, long time, but it’s always with me in some shape. “We went to the movies.”
“Who?” she asks. Sitting still now, listening.
“Me and my girlfriend at the time. Her name was Tracy. We had math class together. Bonded over scary movies.”
“Girlfriend,” she says with some surprise in her tone. “You mean—?”
“We saw this new slasher movie. I don’t even remember which one anymore. It’s like everything right before and everything right after is a blur. But the moment is still sharp like it happened an hour ago.”
