Mancave (Wild Men 3)

And is this what they mean about the nesting instinct of pregnancy? Isn’t it too early?

Jeez, Octavia…

* * *

This day seems endless, and yet it goes by so fast. Half-dozing on the couch for most of the afternoon surely plays a role, I think to myself as I watch Matt mow the grass in the garden. He’s already started sanding down the fence and has apparently also bought paint.

Evan seems a little more animated during dinner, and Melissa looks happier, too. But I’m falling asleep over my plate, and after Matt’s insistence, I leave him to clear the table, help Evan upstairs and put Melissa to bed.

Heading to the guest bedroom, I curl up in bed, thinking to rest a little, read the romance novel I brought with me. With final exams at college and feeling so wiped out every night, I haven’t gotten the chance to read what I like in a long while.

I wake up some time later to a warm breath on my neck, and something hard poking the small of my back, my body hot and tight with want.

“Matt?” I whisper, and he hums against my skin, his lips leaving a scorching trail behind as he drags them down, his hand sliding up to cup my breast through my nightgown.

“Want me to stop?” His teeth graze my shoulder, and I shiver.

“No.”

“You sure?” He squeezes my sensitive breast, and I groan, caught between pain and pleasure. “Tell me.”

“Don’t stop,” I breathe, rocking back against his hard on. “Please don’t.”

“Fuck, Tay…” His groan is muffled against my skin. He releases my boob, his hand traveling down, between my legs, lifting my gown and sliding inside my panties. “Can’t get enough of you. Ever.”

My throat closes at those quiet words, but he doesn’t give me a chance to recover. His finger slips into me, stroking, and the pleasure takes my breath away.

“Oh God…” I whisper, all too aware Evan and Melissa sleep at the other end of the landing, only the bathroom separating us. “I want you.”

“I’m yours,” he says, and strokes me harder, until I think I’m about to combust.

Then he drags his finger out, and I moan my protest, right before he rolls me onto my back and spreads my legs. “What are you…?”

He winks at me and gives my pussy a long, slow lick that has me trembling. “Been thinking about doing this to you all day,” he whispers, his breath against my wet opening making me twitch. “About tasting you, and making you come on my tongue.”

Holy crap, when he talks dirty to me it’s all I can do not to come on the spot. “Please…” The fog of sleep is cleared and gone, desire burning through my body like a fever. “I need…”

He doesn’t let me finish, find the words. He knows what I need.

He always has, ever since he opened himself to me and let those thick defenses fall. He looks formidable, rough around the edges, but inside he’s pure gold.

Placing his hands on my legs, he grins at me and goes to town, licking, sucking, using his tongue to drive me insane. I’m gripping the covers so hard my fingertips are going numb, and I’m trying to keep quiet as he brings me to the brink of orgasm again and

again, not letting me fall.

“Matt,” I hiss, arching off the bed as he fucks me with his tongue. “I’m going to… God!”

Pleasure bursts through me, bowing my back, sending fireworks bursting behind my eyelids. He drags the flat of his tongue upward, over my clit, and another wave rolls over me, inside me, making me moan out loud, my hips lifting.

Dimly I’m aware that he’s moving, straightening, then grabbing his cock and pushing into me.

“Need to be with you,” he whispers, groaning when he slides home, filling me up, sending aftershocks through my still shaking body. “To be inside you.”

“Yes. God, yes.” I’m panting. “Come inside me. Need to feel you.”

He mutters something I can’t make out and bends over me, lifting one of my legs around his hip, pushing deeper, making me gasp. He pulls out a little, shoves his cock back inside, his chest muscles clenching deliciously.

My husband is such eye-candy, I swear…