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It’s an intoxicating feeling. Seducing her husband.
Or maybe he’s seducing her…
She doesn’t care.
She didn’t sign up for all the other women.
But they are out of his life. He said so, and she’s chosen to believe him. Even though there’s questionable evidence splashed all over the papers. She can see he’s the reluctant party in the photograph.
And now she wants him. But he hasn’t touched her since his thumb skirted her lip.
It’s frustrating.
Confront me. Talk to me.
Those were his words. “Take me,” she says, because that’s what she wants. Here. Right now.
Maxim groans and steps forward, bringing his body flush against hers and clasping her face between his palms and bringing her lips to his. His tongue unleashed, he searches and finds and provokes her own. Her hands fist in his hair as she revels in his kiss—wanting and giving more. When they’re both breathless, he pulls sharply away and drops to his knees. Deftly, he makes fast work of her jeans, unfastening them and sliding them and her panties down her legs and off. He grabs her thighs and tugs her against his waiting nose and mouth.
“Ah!” she groans and grabs the countertop for balance. Maxim’s tongue is on her.
Big time.
Teasing.
Circling.
Coaxing her higher.
Making her wetter and wetter.
Alessia tilts her head back, one hand tugging his hair, the other gripping the counter, and she moans, surrendering to his masterful ministrations.
* * *
I think I’m going to burst. Standing ready to bury myself in my wife, I grab her glorious behind and lift her onto the counter. “I’ve never done it here,” I mutter as I unzip my jeans, freeing my straining dick. Alessia approves and wraps her legs around me, hauling me closer, digging her heels in my arse. She rests her arms on my shoulders, and we both pause, our breath mingling, eyes on each other. She kisses me. And pulls away.
“I taste me,” she whispers.
“Best flavor in the world.”
She grins, her whole face lighting up like a blissful spring day, and she cups my face, bringing my mouth to hers and we kiss, our lips covered in a heady combination of her arousal and my saliva.
It’s slippery and wet.
And wonderful.
And oh-so-slowly, I sink into my wife.
“Ah,” she cries, tipping back her head and hitting it on the cupboard behind. “Ow!”
She laughs, and I cup her head, knowing she’s not hurt—and thrust harder and deeper inside her. She clings to me as I set a punishing, forget-everything-else pace. She bites my earlobe, her breathing hot and harsh in my ear as I lose myself in her.
And I feel her. Climbing. Higher and higher.
I keep going, banishing all thoughts from last night, so it’s only her and me in the now.
Alessia.
She’s rising and soaring, taking me with her.
“Maxim,” she cries as she comes, and the power of her orgasm pushes me over the edge, and I climax hard and fast, buried in my beautiful wife.
* * *
“I have flour on my backside,” Alessia mumbles.
Maxim raises his face from the crook of her neck and grins. “There’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear.” He runs his nose down hers and kisses her sweetly. They’re still intimately joined, and neither of them seem to want to move.
“I love you, Lady Trevethick.”
“I love you, Lord Trevethick,” she responds.
“Good.”
She tightens her hold on him, keeping him anchored inside her. “If you kiss anyone else, I will remove this organ,” she says, digging her heels into his naked butt.
Maxim laughs and eases out of her. “Understood, my lady.”
Alessia smiles. “I will fight for you,” she says as he tugs up his jeans.
He caresses her face with both his hands, his thumbs tracing the outline of her lips and his green eyes blazing. “Oh my love, you don’t have to fight for me. I’m yours. Always. I’ll be yours for as long as you’ll have me.”
Alessia is winded by his quiet but passionate entreaty.
He studies her as he stands between her legs. “What can I do to convince you?”
She frowns. Where is he going with this?
“I know,” he says, his face lighting up with sudden inspiration. “Let’s have a baby.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alessia gasps and stares back into bright green eyes, totally blindsided. “A baby?” she squeaks.
He plants a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth. “Yes. A boy.” He kisses her again. “Then a girl.” Kiss. “Then another boy.” Kiss. “And another girl.” He kisses the other side of her mouth.
Alessia giggles. “Four children! I’m not sure it works like that.”
“I know how it works,” he growls, amused.
“Call of Duty?”
Maxim laughs. “Oh, my love. Funny and talented. Never change.” He nuzzles her nose with his.
“My backside is covered in flour, and you want babies.”
He nods.
“Can I shower first?”
He grins and looks at the counter beside her, where the dough lies neglected but rising. “I was rather hoping for breakfast.” He kisses her again, and she swats him away.
