Another growl in Swedish and my husband held me effortlessly while he backed into the house.

5

Axel

Holy shit, my wife was drunk. Her ass filled my hands as I closed the front door with my heel.

“I like our house,” she noted, her eyes sweeping over the entryway that was large enough to fit half the locker room.

“Me too,” I agreed. When I moved to set her down, she clutched me tighter.

“I like you even more,” she whispered with a giggle, then tugged my earlobe with her teeth.

Her teeth.

A shot of lust hit me square in the dick, and I sucked in a full breath, telling myself all the reasons I couldn’t fuck my own wife. Two weeks of sleeping next to her, waking up hard next to her, and I was ready to say screw the plan and just get to the screwing.

“Langley?” I questioned, my fingers flexing on the incredible curves of her ass.

“Axel?” she replied, then kissed her way down my throat.

Each caress felt like an electric shock to my system, and every single one of them gathered in my cock, turning me harder than the wood under our feet.

“You taste so good,” she murmured against my skin. “You always taste so good. Smell good, too. Like sandalwood and ocean water, and yummy.”

“Yummy?” I questioned, unable to move under her onslaught.

“Yummy,” she assured, her lips landing at my jaw.

“God, min enda kärlek, you’re killing me,” I moaned when she kissed that sensitive spot where my jaw hinged.

“I like it when you talk Swedish to me,” she admitted, her breath hot against the shell of my ear. “I imagine you saying all sorts of dirty things.”

My dick was ready to punch through my workout pants.

The words were anything but dirty, but she wasn’t ready to know what they meant, anyway.

“How about some dinner?” I asked, finally moving toward the kitchen as her ankles locked in the small of my back.

“Did you eat?” she asked, her teeth testing the side of my neck.

I was going to eat her if I didn’t get ahold of myself, that was for sure.

“Yes. When you texted and said you were out with the girls, I made something. Can I feed you?” I asked.

“I drank my dinner,” she giggled. “You aren’t mad that I came home drunk?”

Her brown eyes caught mine, a flash of seriousness cutting through the haze.

“Mad that you went out with your friends?” I questioned. “Why would I be? Did you do something to make me mad?”

“What would make you mad?” she asked, outright flirting in her smile. “Kissing someone else?”

I tensed. There was no way—

“Because I didn’t. I didn’t even look at another man. Why would I look at anyone else when I have all this at home?” She gripped my T-shirt and tugged.

Stunned and more than a little turned on, I let her take it off. Fuck me, that was the wrong call because she ran her fingers down the lines of muscle at my stomach. I stilled at her touch, the muscles flexing to a near-steel state with her feather-light strokes.

“This is what every woman dreams of coming home to,” she whispered, ducking her head and pressing her lips to my collarbone. “Sheer. Perfection.” A hint of whiskey darkened her citrus-scent, and I inhaled deeply, searching for my self-control.

“Langley,” I groaned, threading my fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck, then tugging to bring her eyes to mine. “What are you doing, baby?”

“Baby,” she sighed. “I like when you say that, too.”

“Okay, baby,” I repeated just to hear her sigh like that again.

“Kiss me? Please, Axel?” She sent one hand into my hair and the other behind my neck.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” my mouth said, while my cock declared that it was a great idea. No idea had ever been better in the history of the world.

“People kiss when they’re dating,” she said against my lips, hers moving over mine in a petal-soft caress.

My lower lip shook. That’s right, it fucking shook like I was fourteen.

“You asked if I ever thought about kissing you,” she continued.

“I did,” I confirmed, remembering the pool.

“I think about kissing you all the time,” she admitted. “At first it was because I figured kissing you might shut you up, because you’re frustrating as hell, Axel. Then it was because your mouth is so beautiful, and you pulled me out of a dancing cage before I could make an utter ass of myself. Then it was because I wanted to know what you tasted like.” Every word was a caress against my lips.

“And now?”

“Now it’s because I know how you taste and I want more.” She ended the sentence with the lightest kiss possible on my lower lip. “Please, Axel?”

I gave in and kissed her, backing her to the hallway wall and sinking into her mouth with all the pent-up need of these last two weeks. My tongue stroked and plundered, taking her mouth over and over as her nails bit into my neck.

Tags: Samantha Whiskey Carolina Reapers Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net