His laughter sounds almost pained. “My whole life is a reward since you came into it.”
My heart booms in my ribcage. “Mine, too.” I kiss the center of his broad back. “But I’m talking about a more…selfish reward. Like cookie dough for breakfast.”
“I’m selfish with you.” His voice is hoarse now. “All the time.”
“Are you forgetting last night? You’re generous just as often.”
When I’ve completed my circle around him, I begin another one, but Byron reaches out and snags my hair, wrapping it around his fist. Pulling me sideways up against his bare chest. “You’re strutting around naked reminding me how long you let me lick your pussy last night?” He gives a closed-mouth groan. “Stop teasing me.”
“I will. As soon as you’re done swimming.” Shaking my hair free of his grip, I turn and back my bottom into his lap, rubbing it side to side. “This is going to be your reward for swimming a hundred laps.”
His breath comes in short, shallow pants. “Your ass?”
I bite my lip and nod at him innocently over my shoulder.
“Oh my God,” he heaves, his sex turning to hot steel against my buns. “Please, Jane. Please don’t make me wait.”
“It’ll be easier on me if you’re a little tired.” I turn in his arms and plant a kiss on his jawline. “Remember last time?”
My husband makes a miserable sound, gathering me close. Squeezing me. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” I grip his shaft in my hand and stroke it comfortingly, loving the way his mouth opens on a silent groan, eyes rolling back in his head like he’s been struck by magic. “I like that my body sends you spinning out of control sometimes.”
The first and last time Byron and I tried anal sex was a few months ago. He’d just gotten back from a three-day business trip and walked in the door already unzipping his pants, bellowing my name. I had my first experience with that type of sex while face down on the living room floor, my panties in tatters, my husband roaring like an animal while delivering frenzied thrust after frenzied thrust, using his spit to lubricate my back entrance.
I received roses to my office three times a day for the next month.
Thing was, I enjoyed what he did to me. A lot. Loved gratifying him so much. Loved having my body used and abused for his pleasure. But I didn’t like his guilt afterwards, so we’re going to try this again when he’s a little less desperate for relief and can take his time.
Although…not sure that’s ever the case.
Even now, he appears to be restraining himself from throwing me down on the closest deck chair that surrounds our pool.
I give him one final pump of my fist, leaving a lingering kiss on his mouth. “Better get swimming, baby. I’ll be waiting.”
He watches me go with gritted teeth.
Raking a hand through his dark hair, he moves to the pool and slips in gingerly, in deference to his erection, and begins swimming laps. On my way to watch him from the comfort of a padded deck chair, I pick up my robe and fish the small bottle of lubricant from the pocket, setting it down beside me on the side table. And I wait.
I wait for him while thinking about everything that has happened in the last three years. I’ve become a wife. I’ve made partner at my event planning company, which is now located downstairs in Firestarter headquarters. At first, me and Byron were across the street from each other, but that wasn’t close enough for Byron and he moved us three floors away. My husband and I now have our own private elevator and break room connected to his office and rarely make it through a day without meeting there, working each other into a delirious sweat.
We discussed having children and we were both initially interested in the idea, but over time, we realized our extreme fixations on one another are too intense, too extreme, to bring a child into. It’s just the two of us and we’re happy this way. So incredibly happy that I still have to pinch myself. Still have to convince myself every morning that I’m Jane DeWitt and not the girl hiding in the pool house, wishing he simply knew my name. I’m married to my best friend, my obsession, my love. It’s real. And it’s forever.
A while later, I lose my breath at the sight of Byron climbing out of the heated pool, water sluicing down his naked body. He has the expression of a man possessed and it only turns hungrier, more predatory when he spots the little bottle of lube.
I squeak as I’m flipped over onto my belly and the cap is spat into the bushes.
I love when he’s like this. When he manhandles me.