AllFreeNovel
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“Always when I’m with you, Kieran.” My right leg lifts to wrap around his waist. “Mmmm,” I purr against his chest.
“Aye, let me get deeper, brat,” he whispers in my ear. “Give my wife what she really wants from me.”
I consider telling him I enjoy talking to him, as well. But it’s a new relationship, and from what I’ve heard, those are mostly physical. Like this…
OMG, I’m gonna explode.
“Kieran,” I pant, stars clouding my vision. It’s almost too much pleasure for me to handle. But the fire in my belly isn’t doused.
More. I want more.
Kieran kisses me, gnawing at my lips. “Now that I’ve taken care of you, will you take care of your husband in our bed?”
Looking around, I say, “No. Here. Take me here. On the table.”
A look of unexpected shock crosses his face. He rubs a finger across my lips and through my hair. “You, my Italian brat, are giving me a run for my money.”
I breathe, wondering what he meant. “Is that bad?”
“I’m on the fence.” He strokes my hot, yielding mouth like I’ve not stepped out of line. “Now, take those pants completely off so I can fuck my new wife on the table like she wants.”
With his eyes on me, I strip completely. My jeans peel off, then the bra, my undies, too, until there’s not a stitch on me. He wears a wolfish grin that widens with every inch I expose. “It would go faster if you help me.”
“Who says I want this to go faster?” He leans against the wall, watching me.
Naked, with my clothes in a ball next to the table, I stand there, my knees pinned. Kieran frowns like he expected me to just lie flat with my legs spread. What fun is that?
He lifts me with a strength I wasn’t expecting and lays me out on the library table. I sit up and notice he makes no attempt to undress. “What about you?”
“This is my turn, and I get what I want. Iwantyou naked.” He loosens his tie. “Remember when I said you’re my queen?”
“I do. And that queens are basically prisoners.”
He laughs. “That’s what you got out of that conversation?”
“In a way.” I shrug. “What else…” I stop, watching him get down on one knee. “Are you bowing to me, husband?”
“Maybe.” He stares at my legs and tilts his head. “Show me what’s mine,” he hoarsely whispers.
Biting my lower lip, I slowly spread my legs, but don’t get too far before he slaps his hand on my calf and yanks them wider.
“Jaysus,” he mutters and leans in to breathe against my skin. “You smell so good.”
“It’s those bath bombs.” I run my hands through my folds, letting him lick my fingers in between. “They have so many great scents. And they make my skin soft, too.” I brush my hand across his rough, stubbled cheeks. God, the beauty of him.
He’s gone a bit off the rails since Waylon was killed and has been acting edgier than ever. His hot breath fans my skin, and his tongue teases my slit.
My breath hitches. “God, that’s good.”
“I just want to lick you over and over. See how many times I can make you come. Torture you, really.”
“Torture?” I breathe heavily from his fingers probing me. “How can orgasms be torture?”
“When they come at you like a freight train, one on top of the other.”
My heart spikes in my chest. “You… You can do that?”
“I can. And I will. If you let me.”
