Overnight Wife(39)
She gasps and tilts toward me, her lips parted, her face flushed with heat and desire.
I could stare at her like this all day long. Flushed and naked and waiting for me. But she’s right. We are in public. Which means I’ll have to be a little quicker. And if I make her moan a little too loudly in doing so, well… so it goes.
I guide myself toward her entrance, and her hands stay tight around my cock, shifting with me, stroking me a little. Making me harder than ever.
“I love you,” I whisper again, this time as the tip of my cock reaches her entrance, and I shift my hips toward the table, easing into her.
Her eyelids flutter, and she drops my cock to reach up and wrap her arms around my shoulders instead, bracing herself. “John…” Her eyes go wide, then, as I grip her hips with both hands and drive myself harder into her, deeper. Her pussy stretches tight around me, so deliciously wet and warm and hungry. I pull back a little, thrust deeper. Again and again until I’m buried all the way inside her, my cock filling her pussy, stretching her walls, making her feel stuffed full. “I love you,” she breathes too, then, her eyes still fixed on mine, wide and hot.
The words flood me with heat. She’s mine—really mine. Not just an accidental marriage or some ploy to appease my family. She’s my wife. I grin and bend her over beneath me, driving into her faster now, turned on by the thought, by the feel of her beneath me, opening up to me, her head falling back and her mouth parting as she gasps for breath.
I reach down between us, and my fingertips barely brush her clit before she’s crying out, unable to help herself as the orgasm sweeps through her. My grin widens, and I reach up to press a hand over her mouth, muffling the sound, as I continue to fuck her, harder, angling myself to be sure my cock drags along her inner walls, adding to her pleasure.
“That’s it, my sexy wife,” I whisper, my voice almost a growl with all the desire and heat I’m suppressing right now. “Come for me.”
She doesn’t need telling twice. Not as I fuck her so hard my balls slap against her pussy and her ass bounces against the table. Before long she’s at the edge again, then coming once more, with an even louder cry this time, one I have to press hard against her lips to muffle.
“Fuck, Mara, you’re incredible.” My eyes lock on her, drinking her in.
It doesn’t take me long to finish after that—just the sight of her, flushed, her chest heaving for breath, her legs locked around me, her pussy wet and as tight as a fist around my cock, is enough to get me close. I finish with a deep guttural growl, burying my cock in her and pulling her body against mine, holding her there as I come inside her, coating her, our juices mingling and dripping down her thighs when we draw apart.
She arches an eyebrow, eyeing the table, and we both laugh. “Oh God. We have to clean this up before we eat here.” Her cheeks flare bright red, and she glances at the door to the rest of the restaurant. As if that flimsy piece of wood will have kept anyone outside from figuring out exactly what we were doing back here.
It makes me smile, even though I know she’s embarrassed by it after the fact. Because I want people to hear. I want them to know how sexy my wife is. How impossible it is to keep my hands off her.
Hell, I want the whole damn world to know Mara is mine. Deep down, I’m not upset about that article coming out, or about whichever of my crappy relatives spilled the beans to the press about our relationship.
Because it brings this whole thing one step closer to real. It brings her one step closer to officially being mine, for good. Forever.
“It’s fine,” I tell her, helping her down off the table and picking up her bra to pass her. “See?” I drop my napkin over the mess and laugh at her horrified expression. Then I catch her around the waist and tug her against me, leaning in to whisper against the nape of her neck. “Why don’t we just get takeout after all?”
Her eyes dart around us, as she’s no doubt considering the class of restaurant, we’re in. One of the best in the city. One with a wait list miles long. “Do they let people do that?”
“They’ll let us,” I say. Her brow furrows a little, but I lean in to kiss it away, already taking out a hundred-dollar bill to leave on the table as tip. “Don’t worry,” I murmur against her forehead. “I’m sure they’ll understand why I couldn’t keep my hands off my sexy wife for a minute longer.”
“I’m pretty sure they’ll guess you failed at that,” she points out, but she’s laughing now, even as she pulls on her clothes. She lets out a sigh, her bangs fluttering against her forehead, and shoots me a sideways look. “I’m going to have to get used to attracting a lot of attention, aren’t I?”
I try and fail not to grin. “Probably.” I arch an eyebrow. “Is that a deal-breaker, wife?”
“Not at all, husband. I just want to be sure what I’m really getting into here. If…” She hesitates. Eyes me once more, almost like she’s afraid I’m going to bolt if she looks at this whole situation too closely. “If we’re really doing this thing.”
I know the feeling. I’ve had similar feelings. Especially the other day when she threw her ring back at me. But the fear I felt at the idea of losing her? It only makes me more certain that this—that she—is what I want.
I step closer to her and sweep her into my arms, crushing her against my chest as she wraps her arms around my neck, holding on tight. “I want this, Mara,” I whisper against her hair. “I want you. What I feel for you is real.”