Luke winks in response. “There is one catch, though, Celia.” He lifts a hand to trail along the wall closest to our bed. Luke taps lightly. “My friend Paul booked a room just on the other side, right next to us.”
“Oh.” My eyes dance from the wall to Luke and back again. “What does that mean?”
He grins and walks toward me, to where I’m standing in between the open windows of the balcony. “I’m very competitive, you know.”
I have to suppress a real smirk at that. “Oh really? I didn’t notice—how many times did you make the whole office play that card game Carl taught us, until you finally got good enough to win every single round?”
He smirks back. “Pretty sure I started winning by the end of the first night.”
I narrow my eyes. “Still. What about your competitiveness?”
He tilts a head back toward the wall, nodding at it casually. “Well. I’m competitive about my marriage, too.”
“Obviously, or you wouldn’t have brought me all the way out here just to win a bet.”
He loops an arm around my waist and pulls me against him, startling me. I suck in a breath, my eyes locked on his, which are suddenly just inches from my own. His face is so close I can feel his breath caress my cheek. My lips burn all over again, longing for his once more. “I don’t just want to win this bet, Celia, I want to dominate it.” The way he says dominate makes me clench my thighs together, suddenly all too aware of the heat between them, and how wet I’m starting to get just at the thought of that. “I’ve already got a smoking hot wife. But I’ll need Paul to hear just how hot our marriage is, too.”
“H-hear… what, exactly?” I manage, proud of myself for only stammering a little bit. My heart trips in my throat.
“How hot our sex life is, of course.” His hand slides down my curves, tracing the line of my waist to my hips. My heart beats faster, especially when he pulls me against him again. This time there’s no mistaking the hard press of his cock against my belly, still as hard as he was before. It sends a thrill through me, and makes my thighs clench harder, my pussy already dripping at the thought. Just knowing that I have this effect on him, that I make him this hard, makes me feel powerful, seductive. Sexy as hell. “I’m going to have to make you moan tonight, Celia.” He trails a single finger up the edge of my jaw, tilting my face toward his. Our lips are barely a breath apart now. I can hardly think; he makes my head swim so much. “I want our neighbors to hear you screaming my name with pleasure. So everyone who hears knows you’re my sex-kitten of a wife.” His fingertip reaches my neck, and he slides his hand around the nape of my neck, cupping me tightly. “So they know you worship your husband’s cock.”
I catch my breath, my eyes on his mouth. I couldn’t look away now if I tried. “Well… if that’s what we’re going for…” I summon my nerve and meet his eyes, my own gaze probably hot enough to start a fire right about now. I want him so fucking badly. I have for months. For a whole goddamn year. “Maybe we’d better start practicing again,” I say, my throat almost closing over the words, over how bold that feels.
But to my relief, Luke doesn’t balk at the thought, or back down. Instead, his smile just widens, sharpening around the edges. “You read my mind, Celia.”
He kisses me again, and this time it’s not tentative or hesitant. His lips sear into mine, and he walks me back one step, two, until I back up against the window next to the balcony doors. He flattens me against it, just before he pulls his mouth off mine. I gasp in protest, but he doesn’t go far. He just tilts my head back, his lips tracing a trail down the front of my throat, his tongue darting into the indentation of my clavicle like he’s tasting me. A full-body shiver goes through me, starting at the top of my head and working all the way down to my toes.
“God, Celia,” he breathes against my skin, his breath even hotter than his tongue. I moan a little, parting my legs at a touch from his palm. He slides one hand between my legs, all the way up to cup my pussy through the fabric of my sundress, his fingers curling against me so strongly that even with panties on, I can feel their heat, and I can feel how wet I’ve become too.
“Are you as hungry for me as I am for you, Celia?” he whispers.
My clit feels swollen and heavy with want. All I want is for him to keep touching me, up until he spreads my legs and fucks me. But his hand slides away, back up my waist until he reaches my breasts. One hand cups my breast tightly, massaging, as his thumb runs over my nipple. Even underneath my bra, I can feel myself starting to harden. “Fuck yes,” I breathe.
“Tell me,” he says, before he goes back to kissing me again, licking and nipping and sucking at the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. He’s biting hard enough that it will leave a mark, I know, but I don’t care. At this point, all I can think is how badly I want his mark on me, like a claim on my skin.
“I want…” I almost lose my train of thought, as he nips at me again. I catch my breath. “I want to feel your cock inside me. I want you, Luke, I want you to fuck me.”
He pulls back, a single eyebrow arched. “I want to fuck my wife. Who do you want to fuck?”
I realize what he wants, and it makes my heart beat faster, my pulse pounding in my throat. I lock eyes with him, unable to look away. “My husband,” I say. “I want my husband to fuck me, right here, right now.”
His grin widens when I answer correctly. “Good girl.” He reaches down to catch my dress in one hand, and draws it up over my head, slowly enough to make me shiver as the breeze through the open balcony hits my bare skin. He pulls it off and drops it in a heap beside us, before he presses my back against the glass window once more. It’s cool against my back, almost as cool as his hands are searing hot against my front. He unclasps my bra and lets it fall next, before leaning down to suck my nipple into his mouth. My breath catches in my throat and I arch against him, pressing closer as his tongue swirls around my hardening nipple.
“Fuck.” I slide my hands up to bury them in his hair, my nails running over his scalp. He shivers, so I do it again, scratching him as he tongues my nipple, one after the next, his hands wandering down to my panties at the same time.
It takes me a moment to recover my senses, but when I do, my hands already know what I want. I reach for his shirt and draw it up and over his head, before tossing it on the floor beside us. Fuck. I always suspected he was built. After sending out enough of his clothes for tailoring, I know his measurements by heart. But knowing his numbers and seeing his body with my own eyes are two very different things.
Never mind touching him…
“God you’re so fucking hot,” I murmur as I run my hands over his sculpted pecs, his washboard abs. He catches my eye, his own narrowed, and I realize my error. “Husband,” I add, putting a subtle emphasis on the word that makes him grin.
“Like I said earlier.” He glances down, just as he hooks one thumb under the side of my panties. I wore simple white lace ones toda
y, just in case. He tugs them down and off in one movement, and they puddle around my feet at once. I shiver, standing before him completely naked. “Only the best for my sexy as hell wife.” He leans back in to kiss me again, and I melt into his lips, even as I reach down to grasp the clasp of his pants and carefully undo the button.
He stops me with one hand and steps back for a second, gaze roaming across me.
“Wait,” he says. “I want to look at my wife for a moment.”
I shiver, feeling his gaze almost like a physical touch on my skin, it’s so hot. He doesn’t bother to disguise the naked lust and hunger in his eyes as he drinks me in. It hits me all over again how surreal this is. That it’s Luke, that it’s finally happening. The moment I’ve wanted ever since I first stepped into his office to interview for my position with him, and knew I was completely fucked.
This is the first time I’ll actually get fucked. Finally. Months of tension feel built up in me. A whole year’s worth. Deep down, somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I ought to be worried about this. About sleeping with my boss, for God’s sake. But I can’t bring myself to care. Not when it’s Luke.
Not when he smiles with pleasure and evident approval, and reaches down to undo his pants, pushing them down and letting me see the huge bulge in his boxers, springing free at last. “God you are perfect,” he tells me. He steps close again, and I push his boxers down, feeling like I’m unwrapping a present for the first time.
His cock is fucking magnificent. Huge and thick, veined a little along the shaft, with a thick, spongy tip and a base so wide I need both hands to wrap my fingers around him. Which I do, stepping close so I can feel the velvety smooth skin of his shaft against my belly even as I start to stroke him.
His eyes fall half-closed for a moment, and a low groan sounds from the back of his throat, before he catches himself. “Is this what you’re hungry for, kitten?” he murmurs, low and throaty in a way I’ve never heard him sound before. His voice, pitched at that level, makes my toes curl. “You want your husband’s cock inside you?”