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“I’m a woman. The Lancaster women are different. We feel too much to make up for the men’s lack of emotion. I don’t have sex with you just because it feels good. And it feels really, really good, what you do to me.”
“Even earlier?” I raise a brow. I was cruel the first round. And crude the second.
“I should say no. I should say I found it offensive and almost borderline assault.”
What the fuck?
“But that would be a lie,” she continues. “I enjoyed every second of it and am counting the minutes until we can do it again.”
My cock surges to life at her confession.
“This is me being honest with you, Perry. I don’t want to lie to you. And I don’t want you to lie to me either.” She’s quiet for a moment. Assessing.
My wife is smart. She’s using our sexual connection to get me to be truthful with her.
But I’m just as smart.
“You’re a hot fuck, wife. I can’t lie about that.” I wipe the smile off my face with my hand, being purposely callous.
The hurt in her gaze is unmistakable. She stares at me, her eyes glassy and she suddenly leaps to her feet, tossing her napkin on top of her plate.
“Fuck you,” she mutters before she walks away.
Leaving me alone at the table.
“Damn it,” I whisper as I stand, about to chase after her but I’m stopped by the server who wants me to sign for our bill. I do as he requests, irritated enough that I give him a lesser tip for holding me up before I’m out of the restaurant and chasing after my wife.
She’s far ahead of me, running in those gold heels, her skirt flaring up with the breeze and I swear to God was that her bare ass I just saw?
The skirt flips up again, and yep, there are her naked golden cheeks.
Picking up the pace, I run after her, drawing closer. I call her name but she doesn’t acknowledge me.
Charlotte just keeps running.
Only when she’s stuck at the villa trying to open the front door with the key card that I catch her. I pin her to the door with my body, my front pressed against her back and she hangs her head, trying to nudge me away with a not so friendly push of her ass.
It doesn’t work. All it does is remind me that she’s naked beneath the dress and my cock stands at attention.
“I hate you,” she says, still facing the door. Like she can’t bear to look at me. “Stop trying to win me over with sex. I’m not interested.”
I run my hand over her hip, my fingers carefully gathering up the soft fabric, until just the bottom of her ass cheeks are exposed. I slip my hand beneath the hem, skimming my fingers over her smooth skin, dipping them between her legs.
She’s wet. Hot.
“Not interested,” I say as I slowly begin to stroke her. “Right.”
“I hate you.” Her voice trembles and she hangs her head.
“I hate you too, babe.” I press my cock against her so she can feel how much I can’t stand her. “Now are we going inside, or do I have to fuck you on the doorstep?”
Charlotte blows out an aggravated breath, pressing her forehead against the door. “Fuck me out here, then. I dare you.”
For whatever weird reason, it’s exactly what I want to hear. Without hesitation, I’ve got my cock out in seconds, her skirt is pushed up and I’m sliding inside of her, groaning low when I feel all that creamy heat wrap tightly around me. She whimpers, arching her back and sending me deeper and I glance around, making sure no one is out here.
We’re fairly isolated but I can see a few other villas in the near distance. The pathways are lit, and an employee or, hell, even a guest could go walking by at any moment. We’re not completely alone out here.
Maybe that’s half the thrill.
