Taking Chloe (Vaughn)

“Yes,” she breathed out. Chloe levered herself with her hands on his chest and slowly sank onto his heavy, swollen erection. He stretched her inner walls, stroked sensitive tissues.

He pulled her down and cupped her breast. “Mmm, come to Daddy,” he urged in a husky whisper that moved along her nerve endings like the stroke of a feather. “So good, so fucking perfect.”

Chloe couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. Her husband’s gaze held her captive. She was so wet and slick, yet her body still milked his engorged length. When she whimpered, he smoothed his palm up her spine in a soothing caress. “Easy. We have all the time in the world.”

“I never want it to end, Merrick, never.”

“And it won’t,” he vowed.

She threw her head back and began moving up and down, before grinding her hips into his and allowing his cock to sink even deeper.

“Yeah, do that again.”

She repeated the movement, rising up until just the bulbous head was nestled between her pussy lips, then slid down again, fusing their bodies together. Merrick groaned his approval, his gaze never leaving her face. His hands slid over her body, touching everywhere, as if reacquainting himself with her every curve and valley. Chloe luxuriated in having his total concentration.

She squeezed her inner muscles and Merrick’s hips shot upward. The sweet lover disappeared and in his place lay a wild and uninhibited warrior. Her husband’s primitive nature took over. He began thrusting and retreating, hard and fast, driving them both to the ragged edge of desire.

“Merrick!” she cried out.

He lifted up, wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her neck. “I’ve got you, baby.”

His lips caressed as he drove his cock deep. Chloe met him thrust for thrust. Merrick found the special spot on her neck that always drove her crazy and sucked her overheated skin. She dug her fingers into his hair and held him close. His arms tightened around her as he pushed in and out, fucking her tight channel.

The fire inside her core burned hotter and hotter until her pussy clutched his cock like a fiery fist. He pulled back and thrust forward one more time. Chloe lost it. Merrick kept his arms locked around her shoulders as she burst all around him, screaming his name. The orgasm went on and on, Merrick seemed intent to pull every last drop of pleasure from her.

After she came down from the euphoric high, Merrick lifted his head. “Look at me, beautiful.”

Chloe opened her eyes and stared at her husband. “Come for me, Merrick,” she murmured.

“Anything you say, sweetheart.” He thrust his hips upward once, twice, three times before he filled her with his hot seed. The swiftness of it shocked her to the core. He’d been waiting, riding that shaky edge until she found her own completion.

Chloe couldn’t drag her gaze away as Merrick’s entire demeanor changed, became more intense.

“Do you see how we fit? Do you feel me inside you?”

“Yes, Merrick.”

“No other will ever fill you like me. This isn’t about chemistry or body size either. It goes deeper than that. This is about love.”

“And no other will ever fit you like me?” she asked, hesitant about this new side to her husband.

“Exactly. I will not let you go.” His arms crushed her to him, his head buried in the valley between her breasts.

She pushed his sweat-soaked hair away from his face. “We don’t always get what we want, Merrick. It’s called free will.”

He nuzzled her bosom, kissed each of her nipples before leaning back. “Yes, free will. But I happen to know a secret, baby.”

“And what’s that?”

“I know you, inside and out. If you really thought I was beyond help, you wouldn’t have hesitated to dump my workaholic ass.”

Damn. He had her there. She had thought he was worth the effort and she did think their marriage worth saving. Merrick hadn’t neglected her on purpose. She knew that in her heart. The question remained as to why he’d put her on the backburner.

He’d claimed to tell her everything tomorrow. They’d talk then. She’d finally get some long overdue answers.

Chapter Eight

Merrick sat at the little table on the terrace of their suite, soaking in the fresh morning breeze as he read the latest headlines. He took a sip of the fresh coffee that had arrived moments earlier. He’d always been an early riser, but he’d actually slept until eight. He couldn’t believe the time when he’d looked at the clock. He hadn’t slept past six in the morning since his college days.