“Oh, I’m good,” I say. Or I was about to say, anyway. But Luke speaks over me.
“Couple of champagnes would be great, thanks.”
“Sure thing.” Paul flashes us both one last wink, and then climbs out of the hot tub, helping Meghan after him. I barely wait until they’re gone before I spin on Luke’s lap and start to dance again, slower this time, rolling my hips against him in a way he can’t miss.
I can feel the tense and jerk, as his cock jumps between us, so rock hard that I know he must be dying for release.
“Is this revenge?” he asks, grinning, before he brushes my hair back from my shoulder and leans in to nip at the soft skin there gently.
“Maybe,” I admit, slowly twisting my hips side to side. “Or maybe I always give my husband sexy lap dances when we’re in a jacuzzi together.”
“Mm… I married well, then,” he murmurs, his voice a vibration against my neck.
I reach up to drape my arms around his neck and really start to get into the dance. I dip and drag my crotch along his, biting back a gasp as I feel the hard press of his cock dig into my swollen clit for a second. Then I spin in the tub and back up against him, grinding my ass along his thick shaft, undulating my hips and shoulders at the same time, so every inch of my curves is on display.
He tries to hide it, when I turn again to slide my knees up along either side of him, my thighs wrapped around his. But his breath is hitching, and there’s no hiding the heat of desire in his eyes.
His hands trace my sides. “You are so goddamn sexy, Celia,” he murmurs, low and hot, with feeling. It sends a thrill through me, almost as much as when he had his tongue inside me. It’s a heady thrill, knowing how hot I make him. Knowing that I have the same effect on him that he does on me.
I spin again, my back to him once more, and shiver as he tightens his grip on my hips. He’s the one leading me now, my body swaying in tune to his direction, as he moves my hips against him. I feel him arch up against me, the shaft of his cock digging into the soft, hungry place between my legs.
He leans in to whisper, breath hot against my ear. “I think we’ve both waited long enough, don’t you?”
My breath hitches. “But…” My eyes dart around the pool. “Should we go—”
“I’m not about to walk anywhere, thanks to you.” He’s grinning, as he slides a hand over my hip to hook his thumb through my bikini bottoms. “Relax, Celia.” I glance down at the bubbles in the tub. “Nobody will see us.” He’s right. The bubbles hide everything below the surface from view.
Still, I can’t help feeling a thrill of fear—mingled with excitement—as he tugs my bottoms to the side. I can feel him adjusting himself beneath me. His bare cock slides out of his trunks, and he runs it along my ass, pressing the tip between my lower lips, just far enough to touch my entrance and make me suck in a sharp breath. I am so fucking wet. So ready for him.
Still, he hesitates. “Do you want to come for me, Celia?” he whispers into my hair.
“Fuck yes,” I pant. I’ve been dying for release ever since our trip to the room. Ever since he tongued me right up to the edge and them left me hungry for him. Eager to come.
“Tell me how much you want it, wife.”
I tilt my face over my shoulder so my gaze can meet his. The music, the dancers, the rest of the pool, all the hotel guests… it all fades into the background. Right here, right now, there’s only the two of us, alone in the world. “Please make me come, husband,” I whisper. “Please. I need to.”
“You need this?” His tugs my hips down against him, just an inch or two. Just far enough for the head of his cock to slip between my pussy lips.
“Yes, husband, I need your cock. I fucking need it.” We’re both whispering, low and hot. The water swirls around us, the bubbles adding to the sensations, tickling my skin, making me even more aware than ever of his every touch. His one hand slides around my front so his palm is flattened across my mound. Then he uses his hand to pull me down onto his cock, agonizingly slowly.
I groan under my breath, my eyes fluttering half shut, as I feel him slowly begin to fill me. He keeps going, so deep inside me that it feels like his cock is buried in my belly, straining against my walls. His one hand tightens on my hip, his other still pressed against my mound—his fingers touch just a centimeter above my clit, like a taunt, like he’s reminding me how easily he could make me lose my mind.