More Than Hate You (More Than Words)

The bottom half of the baby doll is almost transparent and ends in nothing more than a wisp of lace that skims her thighs and swishes over her pussy. It’s beautiful but frustrating because I can’t see what’s between her legs. A little scrap of pale silk shields her from my hungry stare, leaving me only one question.

How quickly can I get those off?

“You look stunning. You’re making me weak-kneed already.” And that’s not a lie.

Color blooms across her cheeks. Nervously, she clutches her arms in front of her like she’s trying to hide herself.

Is she uncomfortable being mostly naked in front of me…or is it men in general?

“Pfft. Smooth words won’t make you any luckier.”

And there’s more of her bravado. My wife has no idea that I intend to pleasure her, melt her, and make her crave me.

“Just being honest,” I assure her, approaching with my hand outstretched.

“Sure you are.” She eases past me, refusing my touch. “What do you want exactly?”

“To get deep inside you and find mutual orgasm.”

Sloan fidgets, balancing on one foot, then the other. “If that’s true, why am I the only one standing here, thoroughly underdressed?”

“I have no problem getting more naked.” I tear through the buttons of my dress shirt and shrug it off my shoulders, absently tossing it back to the chaise.

Her eyes flare as she scans her way down my body, from my bulging shoulders and broad chest, down my six-pack, then lower still to my stiff cock, trying to lurch through my zipper impatiently.

She swallows, and I smother a smile. Thank god for Evan and his pristine gym habit. He pushes me most every day, and the look on Sloan’s face says it shows.

“That good for you?”

She gives me a choppy nod. I’m not sure she’s actually breathing.

“Good.” I slide my palm over her waist, to the curve of her hip, and pull her closer. Just for fun, I brush her tender little pussy against the hard length of my cock. Once I do, I barely manage to stifle my groan. “I have ten minutes to make you beg me, right?”

“Um…” Sloan looks so rattled, I’m not sure she remembers my offer.

“Time starts now.” I set an alarm on my phone, then grin her way. “But don’t worry, baby. I don’t think it will take me that long.”

I don’t give her another second to push back. Besides, I don’t have any time to spare.

Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her flush against me and lift my hand to her nape. Other than tongue-fucking her mouth at the altar, I’ve been subdued with Sloan all day, sharing a look here, a peck there. All of that has made me searingly aware of how much I want her. Seemingly more every day, every moment.

Dipping my head, I don’t wait for her encouragement or permission. I cover her mouth with mine, sealing her lips in a hot, hungry kiss, and sinking deep inside her honey-sweet recesses. The moment she responds, breath quickening as she rises to meet me, I back away, leaving her wanting me more. I nip at her plump bottom lip with my teeth, gently, playfully, as my palms wend down her body, memorizing the feel of her warm, satiny skin barely covered by the sheer, lacy confection. When I reach her hem, I slide underneath, fix my hand to the small of her back, then reel her against my body as I capture her mouth again.

I bend, lifting her so she straddles my thigh, then I grind against her sweet spot methodically, rhythmically. She gasps into my kiss. Our tongues tangle. I groan and I drop my palm to the pert, plump curve of her ass, guiding her to ride me harder. But she’s not the only one burning up. It’s been sixty seconds since I started the timer, but I’m already wondering how I’ll make it ten minutes without being the one to beg her.

Sloan deepens our kiss, wriggling on my thigh and clutching my shoulders. Suddenly, she tears her lips free and tosses her head back, her nails digging into me.

Fuck, this is hot. I’m not waiting for her to set the pace. I need the rest of our clothes off now.

I graze her neck with my seeking lips, exhaling against her sensitive spots and reveling when she shivers in my arms. My satisfaction spikes. My libido revs. My impatience climbs.

I slide one of the baby doll’s thin straps off Sloan’s shoulder, clearing the way for my tongue to have an unobstructed taste of her cotton-candy skin. God, she’s so sweet. I could eat her up all night.

Instead, she grabs at the back of my hair and slants her lips over mine again, plunging her tongue into my mouth with a desperation that kicks my libido into another realm of hell, yes.

I need more.

Everything about her gets to me in a way I’ve never felt.