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The buzzing surprises us both. My husband comes, and he comes hard. Long gushes of cum splash down my throat.
He sucks on my clit, swirling his tongue around that hard, needy nub as I swallow and swallow his seed. At the same time, I massage his back entrance with the device.
The noises he makes, along with the sheer amount of cum, are unreal.
Yes, it’s been a while since I fucked my husband this good. Forever since he came this hard. But I’ve never seen him like this.
The suction on my clit combined with Buck’s spearing fingers into my passage finally push me over the edge into a splintering release.
I shout his name while he roars a string of curses. Together, we’re likely making the other two couples blush—but I really hope they’re all still downstairs engrossed in their card game.
Buck is still hard when he pulls out and flips me onto my knees. Carefully, lovingly, he has me right where he knows I need to be.
Although I love watching the look in his eyes when we’re close, I feel so loved and seen when he takes control like this. I turn and look back at him over my shoulder. His flushed face shines with my wetness. For the first time in months, he sinks that thick cock home.
Buck warms me from the inside out.
Home is the only word to describe it.
“Oh my god, I love you so much,” I say with a sigh, content yet eager to use my sex to squeeze all that’s left out of him.
“We should abstain more often if it’s gonna be this good in the end,” he says, pressing messy, lingering kisses down my spine that make my nipples prick.
“Hush your mouth, soldier.”
He laughs, slapping into me. I grab hold of the headboard. I press backward.
Buck’s words come out slurred as if drunk, but I hear “goddess.”
I am lit from within, thoroughly seen, cared for, protected, and loved.
Now I know. Next Christmas, we will have a strap-on, and it won’t be from Presley.
ChapterEight
Buck
“I would love to feed you, baby.”
I look up. The winter sun peeks through the curtains.
I’m in the middle of seeing how much boob I can fit in my mouth when I hear those words.
We haven’t been so lost in time-blind lovemaking since before our first baby was born. I’m so punch drunk, drained, and giddy that I’m sure I heard her wrong.
Grace’s nipple falls from my mouth with a loud, sucking pop. “You what?”
She smiles down into my eyes. She looks tired but flushed and happy. “I said I’d love to feed you my milk if you want to try that. When it comes in.”
“You would? Really?”
Grace laughs. “Sure. It kinda turns me on when I think about it. I don’t know why this never came up before; this is our second go-round.”
I move over her and claim her mouth with mine. A deep, urgent, throaty kiss the likes of which we haven’t shared in months.
“I’m so damn lucky. How did we end up so in sync?”
Grace loses her answer in my frantic kisses. It feels like the first time we made out: all trembling hands, excited breath, and eagerness.
