“Don’t forget,” he says as I cling to his broad shoulders helplessly, “who this pussy belongs to.”
“You,” I answer, squeezing my thighs around his hips, sending him deeper.
Perry presses his forehead to mine, sliding almost all the way out of my body before he pushes back inside. A shuddery moan leaves me as he strokes me deep and I keep my eyes closed, though I can feel his gaze on me.
Always watching.
“Open your eyes.” When I do, I see the unmistakable pleasure glimmering in his gaze and my heart soars. “Feels so good fucking you. You take it so well, baby.”
A swell of emotion fills me and I lift my head, my lips seeking his. His compliments, his approval, just does something to me. I had no idea I would turn into this kind of woman who got off on hearing her husband murmur,good girlas he fucks her.
But I have. My entire body tenses in wait for those exact words to fall from his lips and I think he knows it.
That’s why he holds back. Saves it until I really deserve it.
I clench my inner walls around his shaft, squeezing him inside of me and he smiles, an achy groan sounding from deep in his chest. “Trying to pull it out of me?”
Nodding, I do it again, my hands finding his ass and pressing hard, pushing him as deep as I can get him.
“Such a good girl,” he whispers, making me tremble. “Always takes it so well.”
I do. I take it from him every single time and it always feels so good. I had no idea it could be like this.
Perry comes first, and I don’t even mind. My own orgasm hits me next, small yet powerful, leaving me shuddering beneath him, softly moaning as he pushes inside of me again and again. Hard and harder, until I feel that blast of semen fill me and he falls on top of me, careful not to exert his full weight.
“Fuck, Charlotte,” he murmurs, kissing my neck. These are some of my favorite moments with my husband. After we have sex, when he’s soft and vulnerable and our bodies are still connected. “You feel so damn good. About make it impossible for me to leave.”
“Then don’t,” I say, kissing him.
He cuddles with me for only a few minutes before he reluctantly pulls away, sliding off the bed and heading for the connecting bathroom. I hear him turn on the water. The shuffle of clothing as he puts himself back together and eventually, he returns to the mirror, studying himself. “I should probably change.”
A sigh leaves me when I notice the wet spot on the front of his pants. “I guess I did mess you up.”
He glances over his shoulder, grinning at me. “You did. But I don’t mind.”
I wish I could capture this moment. The way he’s looking at me. His gaze heavy with emotion. Love? Perhaps.
I think I’m falling in love with him.
No, wait.
There’s no thinking involved. I just know.
I’m in love with him. I’m in love with my husband.
Remaining in bed while he hurriedly changes his clothes, I eagerly accept his goodbye kiss. “Get a pregnancy test,” he tells me. “Have one delivered. You can take it tonight after I get home. Or you can take it before I get home. Whenever you want.”
Oh God, that’s right. He thinks I’m pregnant. Well…
Frowning, I try to think back to the last time I had my period and I don’t remember.
Oops.
“Have a good day,” he murmurs after he kisses me, his deep voice pulling me from my thoughts. “You have plans?”
“Lunch with your sister,” I tell him, distracted by the possibility that I am most definitely pregnant. “And maybe some shopping afterward.”
“Have fun,” he says, pulling away so he can smile down at me. “Tell Tins I said hi.”