He narrows his eyes on me, and damn if my knickers don’t just become a little bit wet. This back and forth we seem to be doing is driving me crazy.
I want him.
I don’t want him.
I don’t mind him.
I hate him.
I love toying with him.
I hate that he plays with my emotions.
The list goes on and on and it’s driving me crazy.
Maybe I should fuck him? Get it over and done with and out of my system?
“Stop fucking swearing,” he says, and it isn’t lost on me that he just swore himself.
I smirk and rise from my chair, walking along the table, my fingertips running over the dark wood as I get closer to him.
“Or you’re gonna do what?” I challenge. He’s yet to follow through with any threat of me watching my mouth, so I’d like to see what he would actually do.
“Don’t test me, Kat,” he says, his jaw clenched as I rock up by the side of him, perching myself on the end of the table.
“Maybe I want to,” I reply, my arms crossing over my chest.
“Trust me, you don’t.”
“Oh, I think I do, Nate. You see, I’m just a bored and lonely housewife now, so I need to do something to make my day a little more exciting,” I say as I uncross my arms and put them either side of me, gripping onto the edge of the table as I lean closer to him. He pushes his chair back slightly and I shuffle along until I am completely in front of him, my legs inches from his.
“And if saying ‘fuck’ in front of you spices up my day, then I’m not going to stop,” I say with a wink, and then he’s standing up, grabbing me from my perch on the edge of the table, wrapping my legs around his waist and slamming me against the wall to the left, his hands gripping my hips, his fingers digging in.
And then something happens to me.
Something I never expected as I whisper in his ear.
“Fuck me, Nate.”
And those words are like a red rag to a bull as his mouth slams against mine, and Jesus, it’s like I’ve died and gone to heaven as he devours me, his tongue massaging mine, his lips tasting me and mine him.
I lock my arms around his neck, moving my fingers to his hair, pulling his short locks, causing him to omit a low growl as he continues to fuck my mouth with his tongue.
Dear God, I want that tongue in my pussy.
He shows no signs of stopping the pace, and right now, in this moment, I don’t want him to.
I want to just forget about all the reasons why I shouldn’t do this and enjoy it. And that is exactly what I intend to do.
He moves me away from the wall, my legs still wrapped around him, my fingers still gripping his hair. His feet are moving, but I don’t care where he’s taking me, I just want his tongue on my pussy followed by his dick inside me. It doesn’t matter that it’s a guy that I hate because all that will do is bring a fierce passion like never before.
He’s carrying me up the stairs, along the hallway, and a few steps later, I’m being thrown onto the bed so hard that my whole body bounces back in the air before landing and being engulfed by the mountain of a man I call my husband.
I barely take a breath before his lips are back on mine. I reach down, moving my hands to his trousers and unzipping them, keen for him to get his cock out and ride me hard. I don’t know if I have ever been this turned on before in my life. He complies and moves away from me, standing at the edge of the bed as he removes his clothes one by one until he is fully naked, and fuck me, the sight before me is glorious. I mean, Adonis hasn’t got shit on this man. He’s got muscles in places I never knew existed. Hard ab lines, ridges everywhere, those powerful fucking arms, and then there are the tattoos that I didn’t even know he had.
My jaw drops open a little, and then his voice brings me back to the here and now.
“Your turn,” he says as he reaches for me, grabbing my hands and pulling me off of the bed until I am stood in front of him. “Take. Them. Off.” I presume he means my clothes, and his deep gravelly voice sends shivers over my skin.
