Page 66 of Accidental Mile High Vows

He lifts me off his lap like I weigh nothing, cock slipping free with a wet sound that echoes off the shower walls. My legs are jelly, but he doesn’t let me fall. He lays me flat on the warm bench, spreads my thighs wide, and just looks. Water drips from his hair onto my belly. The amber light paints every drop gold.

“Every curve is mine to ruin,” he says, voice gravel and smoke.

His mouth starts at my throat, licking down to my collarbone, then lower, sucking a nipple until I arch off the wood.

He moves down, tongue tracing the soft swell of my stomach, lingering where our baby grows. “This belly is gonna get so round with my kid,” he murmurs, teeth grazing. “And I’m still gonna fuck you raw every night.”

I whimper, fingers tangling in his wet hair. He drags his tongue over my hipbones, bites the inside of my thigh hard enough to bruise, then spreads me open with his thumbs.

Two fingers plunge deep, curling, pumping slowly while his mouth hovers just out of reach. I try to rock up, but he pins my hips.

“Greedy little wife,” he taunts. “You want my tongue or my cock?”

“Both,” I sob. “Please, Ledger.”

He gives me his fingers first, three now, stretching, scissoring, thumb flicking my clit until my back bows and I squirt again, a hot rush that splashes his chest. My vision sparks.

He flips me to my hands and knees before the aftershocks fade. One hand fists my hair, yanking my head back. The other cracks across my ass, sharp and perfect. “Count them, princess.”

One.

Two.

Three.

Each slap louder, hotter, my skin on fire. By five, I’m pushing back, begging for his cock. He lines up and drives in to the hilt, one brutal thrust that punches the air from my lungs. The bench creaks under us, cedar groaning like it might split.

“Feel me stretch this tight little wife-cunt,” he growls, hips snapping, balls slapping my clit with every stroke. “Made to take my cum.”

I brace on my forearms, tits swaying, water droplets flying. “Harder…”

He obliges, pace punishing, hand sliding around to rub my clit in vicious circles. Pleasure coils tighter, tighter, until I’m sobbing his name.

He yanks me upright, back to his chest, one arm banding under my breasts. “Come for me one more time, baby. Milk your husband dry.”

His fingers pinch my clit, and I explode, screaming, squirting down his cock and balls, walls clamping so hard he curses. He slams deep, hips stuttering, and roars as he unloads, thick, endless pulses flooding me, spilling out around his cock, dripping down my thighs in sticky rivers.

For a moment we simply hold each other, boneless and thoroughly satisfied. Then we shower together, washing away the sweat, and fall into bed wrapped around each other.

We drift off, tangled together in a Paris hotel room, and I know with absolute certainty that I made the right choice.

This is where I belong. With him. In this life. Building something beautiful together.

20

LEDGER

New York welcomesus back with rain and traffic that makes the drive from the airport take twice as long as it should.

Savannah sleeps against my shoulder in the back of the car, exhausted from the Paris trip. The business dinner was a success, the Mercier deal is as good as closed, and my wife proved she’s exactly what I always knew she was.

Perfect.

When we get to the penthouse, Marie has dinner waiting. Savannah eats half of it before falling asleep on the couch, and I carry her to bed, pulling off her shoes and covering her with a blanket.

She’s been working so hard. Too hard, maybe. Between adjusting to this life and dealing with early pregnancy exhaustion, she needs rest.

Which is why I’ve been planning something.