Hitched(48)

I lift my chin, my lips prickling as they move closer to his. “I have zero objections to that plan. And I’d like to return the favor. I’m pretty good with my mouth too, if you remember from our first wedding night.”

“Oh, I remember,” he says, his voice going husky as his hands cup my ass, pulling me closer to where he’s getting girthy again.

I sigh into him as his lips cover mine. “Don’t ever put your cock on a diet.”

He laughs softly. “That’s not the way cocks work, snickerdoodle.”

“I figured, but good to get confirmation. ’Cause I love him just the way he is.”

“Chubby and ridiculously eager?” he asks, backing me toward the sink.

“Don’t talk that way about him,” I say, breath catching as Blake’s hands circle my waist, lifting me onto the kitchen counter with an ease that makes me feel like one of those delicate women who don’t spend all day every day hauling bags of feed and showing bossy billy goats who’s in charge. “What are you doing?” I ask as his hands smooth up my thighs beneath my dress.

“Taking it one night at a time,” he says, his fingers hooking in the sides of my panties.

“But we have to—” My words end in a moan as he kisses me, sweet and sexy and oh-so-steamy, pushing me from hungry to starved for him in ten seconds flat.

Before I fully realize what I’m doing, my shaking hands are working open the buttons on his shirt and he’s ripping my panties down my legs. I just want him so badly.

His touch, his kiss. His body.

All of him.

He kisses a trail down my neck, while I fumble at the close of his shorts, and then he parts the crisscrossed fabric covering my breasts, drawing one already tight nipple into his mouth, and I ignite.

I am fire and he’s gasoline and if ever I was going to blow up every appliance in my kitchen, this is it. But as he does magical things to my breasts with that talented mouth of his, and I thread my fingers into his hair and hang on for dear life, the only sparks are coming from the two of us.

From the way we make each other ache and need so much that by the time he finally slides the condom on and pushes inside me, I’m wild with wanting him.

Just him.

No past. No future. No baggage

Just two people who create magic every time we touch.

“Yes, please, Blake, don’t stop,” I beg as he takes me hard, his fingers digging into my hips as he drives between my legs and the tension building between us twists tighter. I can feel him trying to hold back, to be gentle, but I don’t want gentle.

“Give it to me,” I breathe, clinging tighter to his shoulders. “I want to feel how much you want me.”

He groans. “I want you so much, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not hurting me,” I say, nipping at his neck. “You’re making me so hot and wet and—” I suck in a breath as he fucks me deeper, faster, until I’m so tangled up inside I know it’s only a matter of time before I rip through the stitches still holding me together. “God, yes, please. More. Yes, yes! Oh, please, Blake, please. You feel so good.”

“So good,” he echoes, gripping my bottom in his hands and stepping away from the counter.

A sound of surprise and protest escapes my lips—we can’t take a break now or I might spontaneously combust from despair—but then he shows me there’s something even better than getting it on with my husband on the kitchen cabinets.

“Hold tight to my neck,” he orders. As soon as I obey he uses his grip on my ass to rock us into each other, getting even deeper than he could before, slamming our bodies together with just enough of a naughty factor to make me feel deliciously wicked.

I come crying out his name and he joins me a moment later, his cock jerking inside me, drawing out my release until I’m punch-drunk and clinging to him like a spider monkey who’s gobbled up one too many fermented cassava melons.

“Damn, woman,” he says, collapsing on the chair behind him, with me still straddling his legs and his softening cock still buried inside me.

I fight to catch my breath with what I’m sure is a goofy grin. “Wow.”

“Double wow,” he echoes.

“That was so good,” I murmur, stroking his hair. “Good Blake. Good alpha alpaca.”

He chuckles softly. “Is it wrong I kind of like being petted like a good boy after sex?”

“No, that’s normal,” I say, continuing to smooth the silky strands from his face. “Because you are a very good boy.”

He kisses my neck, rumbling against my skin. “Do I get a hubby treat?”

“You get all the hubby treats,” I say. “You do that every time I come into the kitchen and I’ll be making you gourmet meals in no time. Three courses. And dessert.”

“Fatten me up?” he asks.

“Well, then your body would match my favorite part of you,” I tease, grinning at him as he pulls back to shoot me a narrow-eyed look. “I’m just kidding,” I say, patting his cheek gently. “It’s not my favorite part.”

“It’s not?” he asks.

I shake my head, moving my hand from his face to the middle of his chest as I whisper the scariest thing I’ve said in a long time. “This is.”