She hoists her head up and sharpens her gaze on me. "What should I call you? How about 'asshole'?"
"Anything but my name."
Emery frowns for a split second, then collapses back onto the mattress and whimpers, though it doesn't sound like lust spurs that noise. "Why did you have to tell me these crazy rules right in the middle of things, when I was about to—to—"
Tears shimmer in her eyes but don't escape her lids.
"Donnae cry," I say, trying to sound comforting, though I've never been good at that. "I'm sorry for shouting."
"I'll get mad at you later. Finish what you started before I rip my hair out."
She's angry, but wants to have sex with me. I'll never understand women. But I lower my mouth again and lap at her clit.
Emery comes so quickly that I cannae believe it. Her back flattens into the mattress, her hands grip the pillow, and her teeth are clamped together while desperate cries erupt from her. I keep licking until the last wave of her climax fades away. Then I raise my head, giving up the taste of her flesh.
While she recovers, I quickly roll on a condom.
My wife goes limp, her gaze unfocused and her lips parted. "Oh, God. That was… You are…"
I crawl up her body to crouch on my hands and knees above her. "Have I exhausted you?"
"In a good way."
She seals her hand around my sheathed cock and sweeps it up to the base. "When did you put this on?"
"While you were coming down from the clouds. You had your eyes closed."
She winces. "Oops. Sorry, I meant to keep my eyes open."
"Donnae worry." I rest my head next to hers, our cheeks touching. "You looked at me when I was pleasuring you and when you came. That's what I needed."
Emery folds her arm around my neck while methodically pumping my erection. "We're not done yet, are we?"
With my cheek lingering on hers, I grasp her wrist to halt her hand. "We are nowhere near done."
"Good, because I can't get enough of you."
For a moment, I hold perfectly still. She can't get enough? No woman has ever said that to me. I draw my head back and study her expression. "I want you more than I should. We have a business arrangement, not a traditional marriage. Sex for us should be a mutual satisfaction of needs and nothing more."
"Stop making this so complicated." Despite my hand on her wrist, she manages to rub her fingers over my slat. "I'm your wife. Kiss me."
I lunge my head to within millimeters of her mouth.
She parts her lips, silently begging me to do what she asked.
And I plant a kiss on her shoulder.
"You rat," she says, slapping my arm.
I chuckle. "Rat is better than 'asshole.' "
"You might earn the asshole designation soon enough."
Aye, that I might. But I won't think about it now. Instead, I nip her chin. "Patience, my sweet wife."
"I want to be fucked, not appeased."
"Of course." I raise onto one straight arm. "I promised to deliver anything my wife desires."