Overnight Wife

“I love you,” I repeat, reaching up to cup her face between my palms. I lean in to kiss her again, to taste her mouth, those perfect shell lips of hers soft and pillowy on mine.

When we part, her lips remain parted a breath, her throat working with a tight swallow. Then her gaze leaps to mine once more. “I love you too, John,” she breathes.

God, she’s so beautiful.

And I’m so fucking hard right now. I don’t hesitate. I slide my hands down her curves and draw her toward me. I pull her onto my lap, until she’s straddling me, one knee on either side of my chair, the menus discarded and forgotten on the table beside us.

I reach down between us to undo the top button of her jeans, my fingers grazing the smooth plane of her belly underneath her shirt. She tenses at my touch, arching her hips toward me, her back curving in a way that makes me unable to resist sliding my hands up along the small of her back, tracing that arch, dragging her down against me.

With my other hand, I cup the back of her neck and draw her into another kiss, slow and searing. At the same time, I undo the zip of her jeans the rest of the way, reach my hand between us and into her pants, sliding my fingers down to cup her pussy tightly, hard and sudden.

She gasps and arches against me, grinding into my palm with abandon. Her hair cascades down her back, free and wild, just like her.

“God you’re so fucking sexy,” I whisper, and she smiles at me, her eyes dark with desire. I shift my hand against her, starting to rub her pussy through her panties, already able to feel how wet they are with her lust.

“You… drive me wild,” she murmurs, in that sexy, throaty voice that I love, when she’s turned on and can’t resist anymore.

I push the thin, soaking wet fabric of her panties aside and trace my finger along the lips of her pussy, one at a time, teasing, going lightly. “I can tell,” I say, one eyebrow arched. “You’re always so wet for me, dirty girl.”

She licks her lips, and the movement, the track of her tongue, draws my eye, makes me think about all the things she does with that tongue. At the same time, her hands slide down between us, and she traces the bulge of my cock through my jeans. “And you’re already hard just thinking about me, aren’t you, husband?” The word husband sends an extra pulse of white-hot desire through me.

This is what I wanted earlier tonight, alone in my office. I wanted her hands on me, touching me, tightening around me. More than that, I wanted to be inside her.

I shift my hands out of her jeans, ignoring her faint little mewl of protest, and wrap my hands around her thighs instead. Her eyes flash to mine with surprise, just before I rise from the seat and push her back against the table, sending the menus onto the floor.

Her eyes dart to the door, but I smile, shaking my head. “Nobody will come in until we call them,” I say. “I made sure of that.”

I knew I’d want Mara all to myself tonight. The same way I do every night, any time we’re alone together.

She smiles, shaking her head a little. “You’re so naughty.”

“You like it,” I point out, grinning, as I work her jeans down off of her hips.

“Hmm, maybe,” she says, but the words are undermined by the fact that her breath comes out as a faint sigh, her body already pliable with want. I push her jeans the rest of the way off, until they puddle under the table at our feet, and her bare ass is on the table, only her thin little thong between her and me now.

Her hands drift to the front of my jeans and start on my buttons next.

“Do you know what torture it is?” I ask her. “To work with you every day and not be able to touch you the whole long time.”

She smirks. “I don’t know… You seem to find a way to sneak in touches now and again.”

“Not nearly enough,” I tell her. “I can never get enough of you.” She lets out a gasp then, because I’ve pulled her to the edge of the table, my thumbs hooking under her panties. I yank them down and off, in a quick move that makes her breath come faster, her pulse beating so quickly I can feel it in her throat when I bend down to kiss my way over her skin, nipping her gently every so often, lashing her with my tongue in between, until her toes curl and her body arches against my hands.