Blessing knows damn well what it means.
A moment later, she steps into my office, closes the door and leans back against it.
I’m only capable of holding myself at bay for another second before I rocket forward and flatten her roughly against the heavy wood, allowing her no room to escape. She cries out while I rake my teeth up the side of her neck, my right hand reaching beneath her skirt to grip her pussy. “Give me the names of the people who coveted this while you were out.”
“N-nobody. Nobody!”
“Don’t be naïve, little girl, everyone you passed on the street wanted it. Give me their names and I will take care of it.”
“Edison,” she whispers, cupping my face. “Even if someone else wanted me, it wouldn’t matter. There’s only you. There will only ever be you.”
Paranoia and suspicions claw at me. Not about her. I trust my wife implicitly. It’s the world I don’t trust. Her appeal is too vast. She weakens the wills of men.
Why can’t she see what we can see?
Watching her closely, I peel the panties down to mid-thigh, brushing my fingertips side to side on her smooth mound. You don’t understand, she is made of silk. Snug, wet silk. What man could retain his common sense knowing her pussy is nearby? Certainly not me. It hurts to exist and not be inside of her. “I’ll ask you one more time. Who wanted to touch it?”
“No one.” She lays kisses along my jawline. “No one.”
I drop my hand, curl my fingers into a fist and punch the doorframe. “Stop lying to me.”
Blessing bows her head, a touch of guilt cresting in the depths of her eyes. “S-someone might have propositioned me at lunch. I was j-just coming out of the bathroom.”
“I knew it.” With a shaking hand, I yank down my zipper. “And what did you tell him?”
“I told him the truth,” she whispers.
I whirl Blessing around and drag her down to the carpeted floor, pushing the pulsing head of my cock just inside of her snug opening. “Which is?”
My wife flutters her eyelashes at me innocently, even as she unbuttons her shirt and peels it open, revealing the perky tits that I can never keep my hands—or mouth—off for long. “I told him my Daddy is going to get him.”
“Good girl.” I drive myself deep inside of her with a strangled shout, already on the verge of nutting. She’s tight as a whip. Soaked. It’s impossible to make love to her slowly when she’s milking me, moaning and lifting her butt to meet my pumps. “He’s been warned.”
“And so have I.” She lifts her knees and clenches her cunt, robbing my lungs of oxygen. Seriously, you’ve never felt anything like it. If my balls could talk, they would be cursing a blue streak. “If I want to go out, I deal with the consequences when I get home.”
I catch her mouth in a hot kiss that turns her wetter, sweeter, and I reach down to tickle her clit with my ring finger—also known as my favorite finger, because it bears the proof that I’m this perfect creature’s husband. “Tell the truth, angel. You love my consequences.”
Mischief kindles in her eyes. “No, Daddy,” she purrs. “I live for your consequences. I love them like I love you. Powerfully. Endlessly.”
“Baby, I love you, too. I love you more than my heart can stand.”
She kisses me sweetly, granting me a long look of affection, then clamps me harder within her sex, making me grit and curse, my vision turning blurry. “Give me the consequences harder? Please?” she whimpers. “You should make sure you bought the tightest one.”
My manhood is replaced by beasthood. “Oh Jesus…”
What choice do I have but to fuck my angel with frenzied hunger?
You see this? You see what she does to me?
She has me turned inside out. I’m a mess. A greedy, overprotective lunatic.
An addict to my wife’s body and all I want is to mainline her.
I am lost in her and never want to be found.
You want her too, don’t you?
I fucking knew it.
THE END