Page 53 of Fair Trade (New York Monarchs #2)
forty-eight
Even while declaring her love for me, my wife knows how to drive me wild.
I bring her down slowly onto my hard cock.
But I stop when I see a flash of pain on her face.
“No, don’t stop. Keep going, please. You’re, well, you know.”
I smirk. “No, wife. I don’t know what you’re referring to. Care to explain?”
She scrunches her face. “Not the time to gloat. You know that you’re so bi—ah, oh my God, yes!” She screams as I drop her all the way down onto my cock, and I curse myself for thinking I wouldn’t be just as affected by finally being buried in her tight pussy. Fucking bare, relishing her silky heat.
“Move. Baby, please,” she pleads.
I lean her weight on the wall behind her and bracket my forearms beside her head as her arms keep a tight hold around my neck and I thrust into her.
She called me baby.
I go deeper.
She fucking loves me.
I take my right arm and hook her leg over it and pin it back against the wall, opening her up more and letting me hit that spot deep in her pussy that drove her wild the first time I fucked her.
“Yes, Nick. Right there. Oh God, this feels so good.”
“Not Nick. Call me baby again.” I grunt.
She smirks, looking far too pleased with herself as she bites her lower lip. I lean down to swipe her mouth open with my lips and nip her. “Just like that, baby. You know how to fuck me so good.” She moans with her eyes closed as she shakes her head from side to side. “I’m so close. Please.”
“Open your eyes, Angel. Look at me when you come.”
Her eyes open, and her pussy flutters as she stares at my wrist next to her head.
I clench my teeth and keep my own release at bay as her mouth drops open and she whips her head toward me. “Nick, is that—”
“My tattoo. Was wondering when you were going to notice it.”
“But it’s. It’s—”
“Your name, between two angel wings. In your handwriting, since I kept the note you left me at the hotel.”
Her eyes start to water. “Nick.” She gasps as her pussy begins to contract around me, and I know she’s ready.
“Come for me, wife. Come for your husband. You’ve made your mark on my body. Time for me to do the same.”
She screams my name as she comes, her vise-like grip on my cock triggering my release along with hers. I continue to slowly pump into her until our labored breaths begin to slow down.
I slowly drop her leg, wrapping it around my hip once more, but don’t pull out of her yet.
“Nick. I don’t know what to say.” She looks back at the tattoo.
“Yes, you do.” I cradle her face in my hands and kiss her gently.
She moves slightly and places a quick kiss to her tattooed name. “I love you.”
My chest threatens to explode with happiness. “I know.” She quirks a brow. “You got your hair wet just to tell me.”
She laughs, and the motion has us both wincing.
I slide out of her, and she makes a small sound of protest.
“Are you sore? Was I too rough?” I ask as I scan her body for signs of discomfort.
She rolls her eyes. “You’ve kept me deprived of that kind of sex for far too long. Try to withhold from me one more time and see what happens.”
I chuckle. “Is that a threat, my sweet little wife?”
She smiles, a real, adorable, unguarded smile, and I find myself doing the same. She untangles herself from my body and stands on unsteady legs. “Oh hush. And pass me the shampoo. Tomorrow was hair wash day anyway, so I was really only moving my schedule up.”
I pour a generous amount of shampoo into my hands.
“Hey, watch it! That stuff’s expensive.”
I give her an unimpressed look. “I think I can swing it.”
She mutters something about stupid billionaires, but I cut her off when I start massaging the shampoo into her scalp. “I’m sorry. What were you saying, Angel?”
“Nothing. You must be hearing things. It’s that post-sex delirium getting to you.”
I swat her ass, and she squeals.
After I rinse out her conditioner, I step out of the shower and hold up a towel for her. She wraps it around herself, then takes the second one offered for her hair.
“You know, you could have put a towel around that monster cock that’s pointing my way before handing me mine.”
I look down at my bobbing length and shrug. “My wife always comes first.” I wink salaciously at her as she finishes towel drying her hair, only to toss it my way.
“My husband. The little exhibitionist.” She pulls out a hair dryer. “Can you get us some water? I’m going to diffuse my hair before bed, don’t want to catch that cold you had earlier.” My smile widens, and Luisa catches my eye in the mirror. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’ll tell you later. After I tell you about my dust allergy.”