Wrapped In My Wife
Alexa Riley
For the husband who still smacks his wife on the ass when she least expects it…
For the wife that tells him to stop, but hopes he never does.
Chapter 1
Emily
“Dylan.” I moan my husband’s name as he sucks my clit into his mouth. The rough texture of his beard slides across my thigh and I reach under the blanket, grabbing a handful of his hair. He grips my thighs, spreading me apart as he pushes me towards a quick orgasm.
I cry out his name as I come undone. My body jerks and I melt into the bed. My eyes fall closed as I feel him kiss his way up my body, right before he’s thrusting inside me. His mouth goes to my neck, where he nibbles on my delicate skin.
“I only wanted to eat your pussy. I swear I was just going to get you off, but once I tasted how sweet you were I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop. Goddamn, you’re tight this morning.”
I wrap my legs around his waist. “You think I would have let you stop there?”
I smile as he leans back and looks down at me, his rich brown eyes full of need. A predatory smile pulls at his lips before he takes my mouth in a deep kiss. I moan, tasting myself on him.
I run my hands up his back. I’ve been married to Dylan for over seven years and I still can't get enough of him. We’ve spent a lot of mornings waking up like this and it never gets old. He’s my whole world.
His thrusts grow faster, pushing me towards another orgasm. “Fuck,” Dylan growls. I love his urgent need when he gets inside me. One would think we’ve been apart for week when really he made love to me until I passed out last night. I was all worked up and he wanted to settle my nerves. If anyone or anything can get me to settle down, it’s my husband.
He sits back on his knees, pulling me into his lap. His hands go to my hips, keeping a firm hold on me. I bring my hands to my breasts and pluck at my nipples. Dylan grunts while I moan. Our eyes lock and I feel his warm release explode inside me, triggering my own orgasm.
We are always in sync. Dylan covers my mouth with his to keep me from crying out too loud. He rocks against me, milking all of the pleasure from my body until I’m once again boneless in the bed. I feel his beard against my neck and I giggle as he purposely tickles me with it.
“Wake up, Button. I want my shower with you, so we need to get moving.”
I make some sort of sound of protest, but he slides off the bed, then lifts me from it. He carries me in his arms into our bathroom and walks right into the shower. He sits me down on the bench as hot steam fills up the space.
I lean back and watch him wash himself. He keeps his eyes on me as he soaps up his cock and it comes to life again.
“You’re insatiable,” I laugh as I watch him.
My eyes travel all over his body. Dylan’s always been a big guy. Even when we were young he was always the biggest guy in school, towering over everyone. He’s built like a truck. He jokes about when we were kids he was built that way to keep the other boys from getting at me.
It makes me roll my eyes, because I have no idea what he’s talking about. My teenage years were not good to me. Not like they were with my dark-haired husband. Where he was tall I was short. He towers almost a foot and a half over me. He’s never had a six pack, he’s always been barrel chested and hard. He’s got broad shoulders and looks like one of the football linemen he watches on Sundays.
I’ve always been so small compared to him, even with all my curves. I’d gotten even more of them when I had our twin boys. I never could get all the weight off and gave up trying years ago. My husband seems to love them, so what do I care. It’s where his nickname for me came from. He thought I was tiny and as cute as a button. He’s been calling me that since freshman year of high school. He's been stuck to me like glue since the first time we met. My one and only.
“I’m always like this when you’re naked,” he says, then shrugs. “Or breathing,” he adds with a cocky smile as he reaches down and gives his cock a long stroke. I lick my lips.
“Wish we had time, Button,” he tells me before coming over and pulling me to my feet.
He starts to wash me, and I pull my hair up so I don’t get it wet.
“When we drop the boys off, we can come back,” he says, nipping my neck.
I like that idea.
“I thought you had a meeting this morning.”
He turns the water off and we both step out. He wraps me in a towel, drying me off before pulling the hair tie from my hair and letting my curls fall free, something he always does when I pull it up. He even did it the first day I met him. He was that way with me from the very moment I ran right into him in the hallway. He picked me up, and instantly I belonged to him.
“I put a meeting on my schedule so my assistant couldn’t try and fill the space with something. You think I’d miss our kids’ first day of school?”
I look up into his eyes, shaking my head. I really don’t care much for Dylan’s new assistant. He’s always over-filling his schedule. I miss his old assistant, Marie, but she retired three months ago.
“Besides, the boys and I know you’re going to need this. We have a feeling you’re going to cry, and you know how much we hate that.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but I don’t deny he’s right. I’m a crier. I can't stop myself. It doesn't help that I have the worst cry face. My fair skin turns all red and blotchy and I usually end up hiccupping. I cry when I’m happy or sad, so I’m glad he’s coming. I was disappointed and a little shocked when I looked at his schedule last night and saw he had a meeting booked early. I didn't say anything, not wanting to make it an issue. I figured it was something important for him to have a meeting, because Dylan never misses anything when it comes to the boys and me.