Making It Last (Camelot 4)

“That sounds awful.”

“Yeah. I’m hoping you’re not going to make me.”

He worked her other breast the same way, clamped his fingers over her wet nipple and tugged as he pulled with his tongue. She inhaled hard.

Her knees fell open.

He could smell her.

“God, Amber.”

“Jennifer,” she whispered.

“Amber,” he insisted. “I want you. I want my wife.”

He touched the smooth skin between her legs. Felt her slick heat, the pebbled texture of her inner lips, the stiff point of her clit. Both foreign and familiar.

She lifted her hips into his hand, her breathing choppy, eyes drifting closed.

“Say my name.”

“Tony,” she whispered.

“Look at me.”

She dragged her eyes open and blinked, focusing on his face.

“Say it again.”

He circled her clit. Tried to think when touching his wife had ever been so erotic. When she’d last been this keyed up, this sexy.

“Tony.”

The sound of his own name filled him with primal satisfaction. “I want to see you. Let me watch you make yourself come.”

“Okay.”

Tony took his hand away and backed off, propping himself on an elbow.

“You’re gonna show me?”

“Yes.” She dropped her hand between her legs.

“Hold on.” He flipped around so his head was low on the bed, with an excellent view of the action. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans.

She laughed softly. “This is insane.”

“No, it’s not. It’s awesome.”

Her fingers parted her lips. She looked soft there. So wet.

He worked his hand inside his shorts, unable not to, because it was so fucking hot, watching her hips rocking up to meet her hand. She’d never used to do this. She’d told him when they met that she made herself come riding a pillow between her legs, and he’d had to work hard to coax that confession out of her—she’d gone bright pink when she told him and stayed that way for ages.

He wondered when she’d even taught herself to do this. If she’d just known, or if she’d had to practice, or—

She slid one slippery finger inside herself, and he had to squeeze tight at the base of his cock and close his eyes to keep from coming all over his hand.

Fuck. Fuck.