Page 87 of Love Wells Kept

“Yeah.” She groans. “That.”

Shower water drips on my head, falling from her tits as she tosses her head back with a needy plea to come.

Left to my own devices, I loop the letters of the alphabet—a technique I read about online yesterday—while paying close attention to every tremor in her thighs, every rake of her nails across my scalp, every rasping moan. I move in consonants and vowels around the silken contours of her. And I learn my wife, one muttered cuss word and near-buckle of her knees at a time.

Until she’s gripping the back of my skull and riding my face with a hoarse, “Oh, fuck. God, don’t stop.”

I pull her swollen clit into my mouth, glancing up through waterlogged eyebrows to watch her tits jiggle with stilted breaths and her mouth fall into an O shape that I’d love to do so many things with. I give my cock a quick stroke, careful not to touch the sensitive head for fear I’ll blow my load all over the shower floor, instead of filling my wife with it the way I want to.

Two fingers plunge inside her tight pussy, and she clamps down around them. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m gonna…”

Her muscles squeeze my knuckles together as her thighs tremble and tense with the force of her orgasm. A moan vibrates off the shower walls, and I keep licking and sucking even as a zap of electricity tingles my spine. She comes in waves of unending whines and hips rocking against my mouth and hands knotted around my hair.

“Jackson…I…” She shakes her head, all the hair she’d previously insisted on keeping dry now hanging loose, with soaked tips plastered against her breasts. “Holy shit. I wasn’t sure if you could still do that.”

I press the most gentle of kisses to her sweet pussy, pulling my fingers from her powerful grip and sucking them clean. Then I rock back on my heels, and with shaky legs and a cock that’s one light brush away from painting her in cum, I find my footing.

“That was good?” I nervously ask, brushing the pad of my thumb over her flushed cheek.

Kate kisses me. Really kisses me. Then smiles against my lips, letting out a satiated giggle between the sweet kisses that taste like all the best parts of her. Her tongue drags my bottom lip, then she’s pressing her mouth to my chin, my jaw.

“So good,” she finally says, voice vibrating my Adam’s apple.

“I’ve dreamed about that so many times and…” I tilt my jaw up, letting her tongue continue its journey to my naked, damp chest. “Tasting you—it was, sweet God. Best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Her nails drag down my front, leaving raised, red claw marks in their wake. And she swirls her tongue around my—holy fuck—nipple. I moan and fist her hair, pulling her mouth to mine, and she responds by grinding against me. Nails dug into my ass, she forces my cock to glide against her slick pussy. A hungry growl catches in my throat at the feel of my hard cock pressed between us. She’s managed to unleash something feral.

“Kate,” I groan into her wet mouth. “I need to be inside you. I need to be inside my wife.”

It’s like in the movies where everything is in slow motion. She’s grabbing my hand and dragging me out of the shower. The fire-dried air is warm, but not warm enough to prevent the goosebumps scattered over our skin. And the bed is too far to go. So I snare her wrist and tug her in for a fervid kiss. In the middle of a firelit room, floorboards creaking under our weight, her naked body pressed to mine, I’ve never felt more like husband and wife.

Her smile against my lips warms my entire body.

“I’ve never been this happy,” I admit quietly, cupping one of her breasts and running a thumb over the stiffened peak.

A little sob of anticipation leaves her. “You were right when you said we’d have more happy days.”

I nuzzle her neck. Feel her quiver at the brush of my beard against her tender skin.

“Fuck me,” she whispers against my ear, “and let me make you really happy.”

Passion-drowsed, eyes half closed, we kiss and shuffle toward the bed. Stumbling and giggling as if we both drank twice as much of the sparkling wine as we actually did. Kate falls back on the bed first, arms and hair splayed above her head, with an audible exhale of contentment.

I use the opportunity to stare at my sexy wife—she’s the most stunning creature to ever exist. My eyes dance over the curves of her body, reacquainting myself with every beautiful piece of the woman spread in front of me. The damp spots on her skin she missed during her speedy toweling off, and the shimmer between her thighs that I want another taste of.

She looks up at me through long lashes. “Did you buy the condoms?”

Fuck the condoms.

“I did…but I don’t want to use them.”

She lifts up onto her elbows and cocks her head. “You’re sure? It’s okay if you do, Jackson.”

“I’m so fucking sure.”

She bites her lip, running a hand over the mess of partially wet hair sitting like an intricate crown above her head, then playfully patting the bed. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“Taking a minute to appreciate my gorgeous wife.”