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He’d had enough.
Breath seething, Richard could barely contain himself as he pulled her to him. Even after all their years together, and the birth of their son, she was still so deliciously snug, and he could feel her plush walls stretch as he filled her inch by inch until she’d sheathed to the hilt. The perfect fit for his cock.
“Oh… Oh god! Baby wa-wait…” Alice gasped, her eyes unfocused. Reaching back, she grasped his knees to brace herself. “Not so… you’re too… too-oh god!”
Breathless, Richard could only nod, her slight movement altering his angle of penetration. It wasn’t much. Just enough to send a rush of sensation up his spine as her slick, velvety walls wrapped around his cock, pulsing and sucking him in as deep as he could go.
The prior night was gone and done. Now it was only them and he bit, chewed, and clawed against the instinctive urge to throw his wife on the bed and just take her. It had been weeks since the last time they’d gone a few rounds. She’d need time, time to adjust, time to get used to the feeling of being filled with him. So instead Richard just watched her, drinking in the sight of Alice straddling him, her head tipped back, the bounty of lush mahogany tresses cascading down to the small of her back, the plunging neckline of her cardigan revealing a feast of golden skin as her breasts strained against the cotton, imprisoned from his view by a few struggling buttons.
He wanted to see more. He wanted to see her.
“Mmm… you feel amazing, so tight,” he purred, reaching up to tug the button from its fastening, bearing her full and luscious cleavage. “And such beautiful tits.”
“Yeah, better than hers?” Alice panted, her back curling in offering as he sat up and took the peak of a single dusky nipple into his mouth.
“Much.”
He teased her mercilessly, raining soft kisses down across her breasts, his wily tongue lashing down and around, refusing to pay her nipple any attention. Her skin was growing hot and he could feel her shake in his arms, pleading for more. Yet she held on until he sucked the stiff peak into his mouth, his hands crushing her to him and grinding her down on his cock with just the right amount of force to make her creamy walls pulse around him.
“Liar.”
Low and breathy, the heat in her words sent a shiver straight down his spine, moments before long fingers fisted in hair and dragged his head back. Dark and lustful, Alice’s eyes burned hungrily into his as she lowered her full lips to his, her lush tongue claiming him in a possessive dance that both thrilled and terrified him. This wasn’t part of her game. She wanted him to know he was hers. Her husband. Her lover. He was her man, no matter what, and he’d better not forget it.
She rolled her hips, breaking the kiss and rising until only half of him remained inside her.
“Mmm… Mr Martin,” a soft, girlish voice purred. His heart leaping into his throat, Richard’s eyes shot up to meet Rebecca's big doe eyes, his wife’s sharp, angular face now soft and long. Then, she dropped back down, her lush heat clenching down, like a second mouth sucking him in…
Bolting upright, Richard just managed to brace himself on the armrests of his chair as it righted itself and almost pitched him headfirst into his desk. What the-
Reality caught up with him. He wasn’t at home. He was at work in his office.
Sweating, heart pounding and his cock straining against his trousers, he collapsed back into the treacherous piece of furniture. Cupping his hands over his head and dragging his fingers down his face, he did his best to bite down on a sarcastic laugh. “Thank God. Just a dream-”
“Yo Dick, you feeling alright mate?”
It never ceased to amaze Richard how, even when dressed to meet Holmes & Raine’s business dress code, Mark McClaine always had the look of a second-hand car salesman. It was his perpetual grin. With that boot polish-black hair and moustache, it made him look like John Challis’s Boycie in Only Fools and Horses, just without the sincerity.
Perched in the open door with his arms crossed, he was grinning at Richard like the cat that had got the cream. “Not looking too good there, Dick. Everything okay at home?”
“Yeah, I’m fine mate.” Richard forced a smile. “Just, just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
Mark gave a dry laugh. Then, still grinning, he straightened and strolled over to his desk, the closest to the door, and dropped into his chair. He spun it around to face Richard in the adjoining cubicle. “I bet you do.”
Richard did his best to ignore him. Him, and the chill that shivered down his spine. It wouldn’t do any good. McClaine was like a Jack Russell with an old sock whenever he got the sense he was getting under someone’s skin. And that was all he had, a scent, an inkling. Just a hunch. He didn’t, couldn’t know.
He was waiting for him to bite. Richard could see the mirth dancing in his eyes and knew it would be a mistake. So instead, he turned back to his computer. The screen was asleep, but a quick nudge of the mouse brought it alive. Prompted by a security box, he entered his password then watched the various excel spreadsheets pop back up. He bit back a groan. Would it have been too much to ask for a computer virus, or maybe just a good old power cut?
The Prometheus Account.
It had been due well over a week ago, and Scarlet had been on at him to get it done and on her desk by the end of the day.
He’d been working on it all morning, but with everything that had happened, his head just wasn’t in the right place. And all the while, Mark had watched him, grinning that inane, shit-eating grin. Just the prospect of a long afternoon of it all over again had him blindly reaching out for his mug of tea. It was cold as ice, but he didn’t care.
McClaine cocked a brow. “Ya know that tea’s been sitting there all morning, right?”
“Mhm…” Richard murmured, chugging it down, not even tasting it as the memory of Rebecca purring his name in that hot wanton tone burned his ears.
Mr Martin…
