Page 113 of Anyone But You

It was day three of our honeymoon, and nothing short of a small miracle would drag me out of bed.

She can withdraw her consent, but the chance of that happening isn’t likely. The sex is just that phenomenal.

“This is the last round. I’m tapping out,” she mumbled before nipping my ear.

You know what? It’s my fault for saying something. Fuck. I didn’t even say anything—I thought it. But that shows how in-tune we are. Thus proving that we are perfect for each other.

“C’mon, Tori Montana. I know you’re not giving up that easily,” I taunted as I sped up my strokes.

“Fuck you, Gio,” she moaned as she began to meet my strokes.

“And you do it so well,” I replied. I laughed when she snatched her fingers from mine and placed her palm over my mouth.

“Just be quiet, ho. You’re gonna mess up my nut,” she hissed.

We can’t have that.

I pulled out of her toxic embrace and placed her legs on my shoulders. We began to compete at who could moan louder than the other, but of course, my wife always had to best me. She drowned me out easily as I delivered stroke after stroke as my climax built at the base of my dick. I tried distracting myself from coming early by reminding myself we only had four more days of paradise before returning home, but that self-control went out the window when we made brief eye contact.

My wife’s eyes were deep and soulful, and I’d always been weak to those long lashes that she’d bat at me to get her way. But my ultimate undoing was when she mouthed that she loved me, sending me tumbling over the edge.

I emptied into her and dropped down to kiss her, wrapping her legs around my hip, and I prayed I didn’t soften before she came.

“Come on your husband’s dick, Mrs. Ramsey,” I said through gritted teeth, hoping her pussy would comply.

“I’m fucking coming,” she squealed, letting me have it. I closed my eyes and marveled at how her pussy gripped me for the hundredth time.

I lazily rocked in and out of her as she rode out her orgasm, eventually stopping when her muscles relaxed and she went boneless. A long, drawn-out sigh escaped her when I pulled out and buried my face in her perspiring neck.

“Tell me you didn’t mean it,” I mumbled.

Even though I wasn’t looking at her, I could picture her brows scrunching together in bewilderment.

“Tell you I didn’t mean what?”

“That you’re tapping out.”

She patted my shoulder three times.

“I’m tapping out, Gio,” she said firmly. “We’ve been in Bali for three days, and I don’t even know what it looks like outside.”

“You’re a fucking liar, and the truth isn’t in you. I fucked you on the balcony yesterday in front of a magnificent view. You didn’t catch the ocean as I had you bent over the railing?”

“You know what?” I smirked, knowing she was about to let me have it. “I should’ve guessed triflin’ as your middle name because you’re never beating the allegations.”

“I might be triflin’, but at least I have knees.”

“The bar is in Hell where that snake nearly sent you,” she whispered as she attempted to wiggle from beneath me. I swiftly rolled off of her when I was reminded of Mini Montana.

I remained silent as I watched Victoria leave the bed and groaned when my dick started to perk up again. The shower cut on, and instead of joining my lovely wife and attempting to “talk her out of her panties” as she would say, I returned some neglected text messages.

Ma: I haven’t heard from either of you in three days. I’m getting a little worried. Did Victoria finish what that foul woman didn’t?

I snorted and rolled my eyes.

Me:I’m replying from the bottom of a ravine.

Ma:No one likes a smartass.