Axel (Carolina Reapers 1)

Her thighs squeezed my waist, and her breasts pressed against my chest as she arched, looking for more. I gave it to her. When her head fell back against the wall, I put my mouth to her neck, lifting her with my arms to get an even better angle. I trailed kisses down her silken skin, savoring every single gasp that left her lips as she rocked against me.

Her fingers abandoned my hair only to rip at her silk blouse.

Buttons flew.

The soft globes of her breasts appeared as she wiggled her way free from the blouse. I nearly swallowed my tongue. Her bra was pale blue, her nipples distended and pushing at the lace with eagerness.

I cupped one mound and groaned at the feel of her filling my hand. Langley was tall, but her frame so graceful and lean that I never expected to find these waiting for me. “Fucking incredible,” I growled, swiping a thumb across her nipple.

“Axel!” she cried out, pushing her breast into my hand.

I pinched her nipple lightly, then lifted her even higher, resting her ass on my forearm as I brought her breast to my mouth. My lips closed over the tip, and I ran my teeth over the bud, using the lace and friction to tease her into a delicious moan that I felt in my soul.

Then I sucked the tip between my lips and sucked, reveling in her gasp.

“Oh God, yes!” she rocked back against me before stiffening. “Wait!”

I immediately left her breast, pulling back to look into the lust-crazed eyes of my wife.

“Langley?” I questioned.

“It’s not supposed to happen like this. I mean, look at this bra. It’s easily two years old. Put me down.”

I set her feet to the hardwood, and she scurried toward the entry. “Get upstairs!” she yelled back.

One glance at her drunkenly stumbling at the stairs railing, her shopping bag in hand, and I was behind her. The last thing she needed was a broken leg from tumbling down the stairs.

She hurried to our bedroom, which took up an entire wing of the second floor. The other side boasted four more bedrooms, and other than the first day we’d explored, neither of us had gone back over.

“I don’t understand why you don’t like our bed,” she accused, gesturing to the canopied four-post as she headed for the master bathroom, shutting the door in my face. “Wait there.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” I told her through the door, noting the thin, elegant frame that rose above the bed. “It’s that it’s too...dainty.”

“So exchange it.” Her voice was muffled by the wood between us.

“You like it.”

“It’s. The only. Umpfh,” she groaned. “Feminine thing. In. This room. How the hell does this thing work?”

I ignored the demand of my dick and let my head fall back against the wall. “How does what work?” Because I knew exactly how this was supposed to work. She was supposed to be just as wild for me as I was for her, and not just because she liked my body.

Everyone liked my body. I was a fucking professional athlete. My body was the last thing I gave a fuck about when it came to the women I took to bed. Scratch that. The money was the last thing I wanted to be complimented on. My body was next. It was a tool, and I was proud of it.

I just wanted Langley to want me more.

Because sure, her body was incredible, but her mind? Holy fucking sexy. Her courage? A total turn on. Her loyalty to her friends? Fuck yes, I wanted that. Her smart mouth? Okay, that I wanted wrapped around my cock, no lying, but it was incredible to hear her unleash that witty commentary.

The door opened, and my mouth hit the damned floor.

Her lips were kiss-swollen, and her hair tangled from my fingers. The rest of her? I was speechless.

“I think I got it twisted,” she slurred. “See? This strap,” she trailed her finger down the one that bisected her breasts, “is supposed to be here.” She ran her hand under her arm to her hip.

“Uh huh,” I responded because I was supposed to, but I’d lost the power of thought.

She was wearing a spider-web, punctuated with thicker black straps that somehow still covered her nipples. Thank God the underwear was separate because if she’d bared her pussy, all bets were off.

“See?” she demanded again, turning to the side so I saw her profile.

Fuck me, my wife was all willowy limbs and graceful curves. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my dick told me that if I couldn’t figure out how to get her out of that contraption, it could.

“Langley, you’re beautiful.”

She gifted me with a glowing smile, and that was the only warning before she poked me in the chest. “Back up.”