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“Sure,” I say, noticing how the feel of his lips against my bare skin makes my pussy clench. “I staged the whole thing. Me and the wild animals are thick as thieves.”
Wade growls, turning me to face him, and plunders my mouth. “I love it when you get sassy with me.”
I arch one eyebrow. “So, all the time?”
“Need to get these clothes off you now,” he grumbles.
I mumble against his mouth, “Not in front of Shirley and the babies.”
He sighs and presses one more deep, tonguing kiss into my mouth. I feel myself getting wetter by the second. My husband knows exactly how to get me excited.
“Fine.” His voice is tight as he hooks one arm behind my legs and scoops me up.
There was a time when I would have argued with him. My 40-something husband does not need to carry me up a flight of stairs.
But I would hate to ruin the mood.
Besides, Wade does not stop once he sets his mind on something. We’re alike in that way.
I’ll enjoy being carried while I still can, before the pregnancy weight will truly endangers Wade’s back. He’d never admit it if he did throw a disc. But if he did hurt himself, I’d have to find someone else to cradle me in birthing classes, and we all know how that conversation will go.
I circle my arms around Wade’s neck and breathe in his musky, masculine scent.
“You forgot your shirt downstairs.”
Wade kicks open the door. “Not gonna need it.”
The bed creaks under us as my husband sets me down, with a mountain of pillows cushioning my lower back. My pussy throbs in response to the look in his eye as he tugs off my festive leggings and panties in one go.
My hoodie and slouchy demi bra disappear next. I lick my lips as I watch him unbutton and unzip his jeans. I can already see the outline of his hardness inside his jockey shorts.
I watch as he reaches inside his underwear and frees his cock. He fists it, giving it one long pull. A low groan escapes him, and his eyes bore into me.
“Look what you do to me, Presley.”
My throat feels dry, and I rasp, “Then get over here and let me take care of that for you.”
He ignores me. That’s okay because I know what he really wants.
Hovering over me, he spreads my legs wide.
With no further preamble, my husband buries his face in my pussy, indulging himself on my lips. I gasp sharply at the feel of his scruff against my wetness.
My husband never lets me forget how much he loves to taste me. He says I taste different now that I’m expecting. Fruitier, somehow.
Whatever, as long as he never stops doing…that…
All thoughts melt out of me as Wade’s lips and tongue tease, lick, and enjoy me.
My back arcs off the bed, and I grind my pussy against his face.
His groans vibrate through me, and the relentless teasing of my clit rockets me to my first orgasm.
I’m breathless and writhing, but Wade is only getting started.
ChapterThirteen
Wade
