Her mahogany hair is splayed all around her, nested in spots. Her brilliant green eyes are flooded with heat and satisfaction. She’s picture perfect, floating on orgasmic bliss.
Every guy that taunted me was right. When it happens, it happens fast, and I know I’ll want this every day with this woman. It’ll never get boring. I’ll never long for something more than her.
Fuck. I’ve fallen in love with my wife.
“You okay?” I ask on a whisper, anything with a higher tone has no place between us right now.
I kiss her neck, her cheeks, her fluttering eyelids, waiting for her breathing to calm down enough to answer me.
“That wasn’t terrible at all.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, and I have to sink my face into her neck because I just can’t imagine doing anything else. She’s smiling when I finally manage to pull back a few inches, and the realization that I’ve spent no time at all with her perfect tits hits me hard, and I feel the loss like a tangible thing. My mouth roams, nipping and licking at the column of her neck and down her collarbone. I press a sweet kiss to the center of her chest, amazed at how soft her fingers are as they trail a path over my heated skin.
I roll my tongue across her nipple, making her legs tighten around me. I feel myself thicken, my cock still nestled inside of her, and I don’t hesitate to push forward.
“Yes, please,” she whispers.
And so I do.
Chapter 25
April
I moan as I roll over, pulling myself from Nate’s chest. I feel completely wrung out in the best way, a little shy that he was right. Man, was he right. Sex can be enjoyable. My body craved his as much as his craved mine last night, and despite making love three times before we fell asleep, that tingle I felt the first time he told me to touch myself is still alive and well inside of me.
I stiffen at the warm hand as it presses to my lower back.
“Are you freaking out because it’s daytime and you’re naked or because of what happened last night?” His voice is still filled with sleep, and the huskiness of it doubles that tingle I can’t seem to get rid of.
I shouldn’t be embarrassed. What we did last night was done with the lights on, not in total darkness like I’ve done before. We saw each other. He saw every inch of me, had his mouth and hands all over me.
“You don’t have time to freak out. It’s going to have to wait until you get home from work.”
He’s right, and that reminder has me jumping out of the bed, uncaring of my state of undress.
“What time is it?”
I scramble to the closet while he turns over in the bed to grab his phone from the bedside table. I should be rushing, should be throwing clothes on and trying to get my wild hair under control, but I’m locked in place, watching his muscles work as he moves.
“Are you sore?” he asks, before looking down at his phone, and I don’t get a feeling like he’s concerned about my well-being, more that he’s hoping I say yes.
“I’m a little tender,” I confess, resisting the urge to reach for the spot that feels the most tender.
“Yeah?” A slow smile spreads across his handsome face. “If you don’t feel well, you should come back to bed.”
He throws back the sheets with a flourish, the fabric making his erection visible. It curls up toward his navel, thick and tantalizing, but I look away.
“Time?” I snap, thankful when he chuckles instead of getting mad.
“Ten after seven.”
“What?” I spin back around to face him. “I’m supposed to meet Ivy at her house at seven-thirty.”
“Twenty minutes is plenty of time.” He holds out his arms. “Come here and let me kiss all your sore spots better.”
I shake my head. As tempting as it is after knowing just how good he can make me feel with that filthy mouth of his, I don’t want to be late for my very first day of my very first real job.
“Not a chance. I don’t even have time to shower!”
I smell like him, like us, like we spent the night consuming each other.
I’m not stopping until you come again.
I can’t.
You will.
“What are you thinking about with your teeth digging into your lip like that, baby? Just come here. I’ll make all your dreams come true.”
“You’re a bad influence,” I mutter before grabbing clothes from the closet and heading to the bathroom to get dressed.
“I’m a horny husband who wants his wife,” he counters. “Let me mark you before you go. I want those boys sniffing around you to know you’re mine.”
I scoff, dropping my head so he can’t see the rush of heat in my cheeks, but I make the mistake of looking back at him. His arms are folded behind his head like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s thrown the sheet back over his lower half, but the thin fabric does nothing to hide his need.