Overnight Wife

She wraps both legs around my waist, hooked up around me, and I reach down to cup her ass with my free hand, my fingers digging into the soft, pillowy skin of her ass.

“You feel so fucking tight,” I murmur, watching her with a smile. “Wife,” I add, and her breath hitches. She can claim not to want this marriage all she wants, but I can see in her eyes how hot she finds that word. This whole situation.

Her gaze drifts to mine, locks on. And it stays there as I pull out of her and thrust in again, harder this time, faster.

Soon she’s rocking her hips in time with mine, thrusting up to meet me every time I drive into her, her breaths coming in short, fast little gasps as we start to move harder, faster.

“Fuck yes,” she breathes. “Fuck me.”

I still inside her then, and arch an eyebrow, eyes on hers. “What was that?” I ask. It takes her a second to realize what she said. To figure out what’s missing.

Her whole face burns bright red, but she’s too far gone to protest. I can see in her eyes how much she wants this now. “Fuck me, husband,” she growls, and that word sends another pulse of desire through me, making this all the hotter as I draw out to thrust inside her again, again.

She’s mine, and I intend to keep her. To make sure the whole world knows that she belongs to me, no matter what, from now on.

I angle my hips to make sure my thick cock drags against her inner front wall with every thrust, right along the sweet spot that makes her toes curl and her breath hitch. Watching her come undone beneath me is worth every second of waiting, every moment of teasing and torturing her.

Her lips part, her eyes lock onto mine, and I smile at her, knowing that she’s starting to realize it too. “You’re mine,” I whisper, against her throat, before I kiss and suck gently along the edge of her jawline, making her fists clench, her nails digging harder into my shoulders.

“I’m yours,” she breathes, and I can feel her pussy clenching harder around me. This close, she can’t hide the way those words turn her on too—it’s written all over her face, in her eyes, in her every movement, as she pulls me closer, thrusts her hips up into mine harder.

“Come for me, wife,” I tell her, and those big blue eyes of hers widen. I doubt any man has ever given her such a direct command before. But I keep going, keep thrusting into her, and she keeps arching up to meet me, her breath coming harder and faster. “Come, now,” I say again, putting force behind it, letting her know I mean business.

And she does. She comes undone beneath me, crying out as the full force of the orgasm hits her, hard enough to make her toes curl and her whole body shake. Her pussy clenches and releases around my hard cock, convulsing in a way that drives me closer to my own edge.

I don’t wait for her orgasm to pass. I just keep thrusting into her, again and again, until I can’t hold back anymore. With one last hard thrust and a sound that’s almost a growl, I finish deep inside her, my hands digging into her soft curves as I pin her against me, pleasure flooding my body, lighting every inch of me on fire.

But far from feeling satisfied, when we draw apart again, she only leaves me wanting more. I have a feeling that a woman like her always will.

* * *

I drive Mara back to her place, casting sideways glances at her the whole time. “You’re quiet,” I point out, when we’re near the address she gave me to plug into my navigation system.

“Just tired,” she says, avoiding my eyes. But I notice out of the corner of my eye the way she keeps stealing glances at me, probably when she thinks I’m too busy paying attention to the road to notice her.

She underestimates my ability to multitask. Or maybe she just underestimates how much I notice about her—how everything she does catches my eye, draws my attention. I couldn’t have chosen a better wife for myself if I’d been trying to do it on purpose.

That thought sets off a memory. An unpleasant clench in my stomach. But I push it aside, drive it from my head. There will be time to dwell on all of that when she’s not here. When I don’t have more important things—a more important person—to focus on instead.

I reach across the gear shift to rest my hand on her knee. She leans toward my touch, an unconscious reaction, before she seems to catch herself, and freezes in place. “Relax,” I tell her with a grin. “You can let yourself enjoy this, you know.”