“Happy birthday,” she said and held it out. He scooted his chair away from the table and tugged her hips so she stood before him. He had his wife between his legs, holding a cake, and he’d never felt so grateful in his life.
“Make a wish,” she said, and he looked at her for a long, long time.
I wish you loved me as much as I love you . . .
He blew out the candle.
She smiled and went to walk back to the kitchen, but he stopped her.
“I need to get a knife and plates for all this,” she said.
“Don’t go.” He took the cake from her hands and set it on the table. “Pink frosting?”
“Strawberry. Your favorite.”
He loved that she knew that.
“Thank you for dinner and all your hard work today, wife,” he said. He rose and lifted her to sit on the table. “But I think it’s time you take a break and relax.”
He spread her legs and stepped between them.
“You should have a bite of your cake, at least,” she breathed. She reached over and swiped her finger in the strawberry icing and held it to his lips. He sucked her little finger hard and clean and watched her eyes the entire time.
“You’re right, baby. That is good.” He reached behind her neck and untied the apron and peeled the top down, baring her high, round breasts. “But I was serious when I said I want you for dinner also.”
He gently pushed her back so she lay on the table, the best damn offering he’d ever had. He took another swipe of his cake and pasted it over her breasts, coating her from throat to nipples.
She arched and squirmed, and Grant bent over her, running his tongue through the path of the frosting.
“Mmm,” he muttered, sucking hard on her nipple, the sweet taste of her skin and strawberries hitting his mouth. “You’re delicious.”
“You better be careful, because I think you may be getting addicted to sugar,” she said. Grant thought back to all the wonderful things he’d eaten off her and couldn’t be sorry.
“Oh, I have an addiction, all right,” he said, taking another taste of her frosted nipple while unbuttoning his pants and shoving them low on his hips. He climbed up on the table, hovering over her. “Tell me you want me.”
“I want you,” she whispered.
He let his body rest only an inch above hers. His cock prodded her opening.
“Tell me how you want me,” he asked.
Looking up at him, she brushed her mouth against his and said, “Hard.”
That was all Grant needed. He reached behind her head and gripped the opposite edge of the table. Using that as leverage, he pulled himself, plunging his cock inside her.
“Oh God!” she cried out. Her legs came up to cradle each side of his hips. Grant thrust in and out. Keeping his grip on the edge of the table so he could take her as deep as he possibly could.
“Grant, yes, more,” she chanted. And he gave it to her. The table rocked beneath his fucking, and Hannah’s perfect body took every inch of him.
She scored her nails down his back, and he hissed. Fucking her harder. Faster.
She tilted her head to the side and bit down on the flexing bicep that was next to her face. That sting of her teeth sinking into his skin, like she was holding on to him in every way she could, made him feel strong. Wild.
“Don’t you dare stop. Make me take it,” she taun
ted him. He’d never had a woman like her. A woman who wanted everything he had to give. Could handle it. Begged for more, even.
He bent his head to latch onto her nipple. Sucking hard as he continued to plunge in and out. She cupped his head and held him to her. Her body went still, her muscles tight.