Reclaiming His Wife

I shake my head. “No, it’s fine.”

“What’d he want?”

“Same thing as before. Wants to take me out for drinks. Wants to talk about my dad’s company.” I wave my hand dismissively.

Meredith frowns. “Does he know?”

She means about the problems slowly coming to light about Cardellini Foods. Meredith knows. I mean she’s my best friend. Of course, she does.

I nod.

“I don’t know how, but yeah, he does.” “

“You know I’m here, right? Always?”

She squeezes my hand, and I smile, squeezing hers back.

“I know it.”

* * *

I strip down the second I get home, locking the door to the apartment I once shared with Russell as I kick my jeans and panties away. The shower water is scalding hot, and it’s just what I want, running in rivulets over my skin as I place my forehead against the tiled wall.

And yet, my thoughts never sit still—not in this place, where he and I lived. And instead of clearing my head, the shower just brings back memories of… other showers I had in here. Specifically, ones with Russell.

A heat beyond the water begins to flush over me, and I swallow thickly as I feel the need bloom between my thighs. My hands follow, tracing down my skin and pushing between my legs. My fingers tease over my aching clit, and I gasp against the shower wall. I close my eyes, imagining that it’s him touching me—that it’s his finger easing into me, his thumb brushing my clit and sending electricity sizzling through me.

I pull away before I can push myself over, gasping and panting as I finish showering and step out. I wrap myself in a terrycloth robe, grab my iPad, and tumble into bed, the lights off. At first, I tell myself I’m just going to scroll through Instagram, but soon enough, I know that’s a lie. Instead, my finger hovers over the folder full of… home movies, and with a throb of my pulse, I open it.

There are pictures of Russell and I that people see—things still on Facebook, pictures on the walls and fridge of the apartment. Our wedding shots above the mantel. All of that.

But, there are… other pictures. The ones people don’t see. Pictures and a few videos we took. I hover my finger over one in particular before I open it, my skin tingling as I hit play.

We’re at the cabin—the one Russell’s grandfather left him. I settle back in the bed, shivering heatedly with slickness coating my things as the video starts. It starts off with both of us naked in the bathroom mirror—Russell holding his phone, waving. I’m telling him to stop it, and giggling as I cover myself in a towel, but he yanks it off of me with a deep laugh. I tumble into him, and then he’s kissing me in the mirror. I slide into his arms, legs wrapping around his muscled waist. God we were young then. This particular video is from right after we got married.

The camera shakes as Russell pulls me into the bedroom. The phone drops to the bed, I moan, fingers teasing down my tummy as for a second, all you can see is his cock.

God, he had a gorgeous cock. Big enough to make me have to work for it sometimes to get it inside. But it was the size of him that hit me so perfectly, deep inside. It was that thickness that stretched my tight pussy so fucking good. Fuck, there were literally times I came just sliding him into me.

In the video, he grabs the phone up as he pushes me down across the bed and moves between my legs. My finger rolls over my clit as I watch myself on the screen, my face scrunched up in pure ecstasy as I throw my head back and moan for him. The camera pans down over my body, my breasts thrust up, my nipples so hard. It dips lower, and I moan wildly at the sight of his thick cock pistoning in and out of me. The me on screen cries out, hands clawing at the bedsheets as Russell fucking pounds into me, fucking me so damn good.

On screen, I come, hard, screaming his name as he drives in and out, screwing me right through my climax. The camera jiggles as I snatch it from his hand, turning it on him and moaning as his face contorts in pleasure. His muscled arms bulge, his abs ripple, and that fucking amazing cock plunges wetly in and out of my eager pussy.

His eyes lock on me, and the me watching alone in bed gasps in pleasure as I lock right back on him, my fingers stroking my dripping wet pussy and teasing my clit. I hold the iPad between my legs, reliving the fantasy as much as I can as I tease my pussy, imagining it’s him. His body clenches, his groans fill my ears, and he starts to fuck me harder and faster, nailing me to damn bed as I scream for more.