Overnight Wife Page 7

  At that, she arches into my palm, her hips twisting as she grinds against me, her breath coming shorter, faster.

  I smile and slide my hand back out, making her twist to a halt, her lips still parted with frustration. Her throat works around a hard swallow, as she clearly bites back her instinctive response, to ask me to keep going.

  Then she surprises me. She reaches down between us to cup the hard bulge in my jeans, her fingers digging into the seams a little, pressing around me. She shifts her palm back and forth, and I grit my teeth to stop a low, guttural sound from escaping.

  The feel of her small hands on my cock only makes me harder. It makes me want to torment her more.

  “Eager, are you, my darling?” I arch an eyebrow, and she pauses, her eyes narrowing.

  “You’re the one who teased me throughout dinner.”

  “Teased you?” I chuckle, completely unrepentant, and reach up to take her waist. In one swift move, I spin her around, leaning my seat back at the same time, so she’s pinned underneath me on the driver’s seat. “That was nothing.” I lean in to kiss my way down the side of her neck. When I reach the hem of her shirt, I slide one hand up underneath it, my fingertips tracing the warm plane of her stomach, up over her curves until they reach the underside of her breasts. Her bra is tight, but I trace around the back of it, my hands following the smooth, silky feeling fabric until I find the clasp.

  “I know you know how to beg, my lovely wife.” I grin down at her. “I intend to hear you do it again.”

  She breathes in sharply as I undo her bra clasp, tugging it off from beneath her shirt. Then, gently, I push her shirt up and out of the way, before my mouth continues its attack.

  I trail my tongue down the center of her chest first, following the trail between her breasts, tasting her salty, sweet flavor. At the same time, I cup both her breasts in my hot palms, kneading them gently, her nipples beginning to harden against the flat of my palm.

  When she starts to breathe a little faster, I run my thumbs across them, pressing down just hard enough to make the hard little nubs swell beneath the pads of my thumbs. I tilt my face to one side and gently nip at the soft, sensitive skin below her nipples.

  She gasps, then sinks into a moan as I suck at the spot now, my lips soothing the bite before I nip her again, a little closer to the nipple.

  Both her nipples are rock hard by the time I suck one into my mouth, my tongue toying with her sensitive bud, rolling back and forth across her until her back arches up off the seat.

  At the same time, my hands slide down her waist, over the incline of her hips, my fingers digging in just enough to make her twist closer to me, pressing in, eager for the touch. My fingertips reach the hem of her jeans, and I slip beneath them again, toying with the edge of her panties as I shift my mouth to her other breast, licking and sucking until she’s moaning, her breath harder, faster.

  I tilt my head back and grin up at her. “Tell me you want your husband to fuck you,” I say.

  Her throat works hard with a tight gulp. “I… that’s not… fair,” she manages, her eyes darkening.

  I tilt my head with a smirk and shrug one shoulder. “Your call. I’ll do it as soon as you ask me nicely.” My eyes flash when they meet hers, and I can see the resolve in her gaze, the tightening of her jaw as my stubborn, sexy as hell wife decides she’s going to fight me on this.

  Just like I’d hoped.

  In one smooth motion, I finish undoing the clasp of her jeans and push them down over the arch of her hips. I’m greeted by the sight of bright red panties, silky and thin. It makes me grin.

  “Someone was hoping for a naughty encounter when she got dressed this morning,” I point out.

  Mara’s face flushes, almost as red as her panties. “Not necessarily.”

  I tilt my head, still grinning. “No?” I flatten my hand, slip it underneath her panties. My fingers inch closer and closer to her mound, to the tight little center between her luscious thighs. “So you wear sexy underwear every day then? Good to know…”

  “It just helps me feel more confident,” she protests. “When I’m… doing something… new.” Her breath goes softer, hitching, as my fingertips reach the creases of her thighs. I trace one after the next, digging my finger in, pressing against the soft, sensitive skin there. She’s clean-shaven, which only makes my grin wider.

  “Something new, hmm?” I arch an eyebrow. “We’ll have to get creative then, since we already did so much…”

  Her cheeks flare again, but she arches her hips up to meet my hand, too. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I’m sure.” With that, I shift my hand to the side, spreading the lips of her pussy with my index and middle fingers. She gasps, probably thanks to the cool air in the car. I can already tell just from the sensation of pressing my index finger between her lips, that she’s drenched. Her juices coat my finger in an instant, even more so when I begin to drag it back and forth along the length of her slit, slow and teasing.

  Another moan escapes her throat, this one longer, as I circle her entrance with my fingertip.

  “You’re so fucking wet, darling.” I smirk down at her, lying beneath me on the leather car seat. “It’s almost like you’re enjoying this.”

  She bites her lower lip, and that expression alone is enough to send a fresh jolt of rock-hard desire to my dick. “I… might be,” she admits, breathy with desire.

  I push one finger inside her, hard and fast, all the way up to the knuckle. She groans again, bucking up toward me. “Do you want me right here?” I curl my finger inside her, making sure she can feel every inch of it. The tip of my finger pressing hard against her. Then I draw it out slowly, running the tip of my finger over the sensitive skin of her G-spot.

  She gasps this time, twisting under me. “M-maybe.”

  “You want my cock inside you?”

  “Yes,” she gasps.

  I pull my finger out with a slick, wet sound, and grin down at her. “Then say it,” I tell her.

  Her lips part with surprise. I just watch her, waiting, as I raise my hand to my mouth and slowly lick my finger, savoring the taste of her, salty and a little sweet, a flavor I could never imagine getting enough of.

  Her lower lip quivers as she watches me. I wink and bend down to trail my tongue along her body. Lower and lower, until I’m kneeling beneath her, just below the seat, and my tongue circles her navel, dips into it. I gently drag my teeth along the edge of her stomach, trailing my hot mouth down, until I reach her mound, my tongue pressing against her sensitive, smooth skin.

  Then I dip between her thighs, pushing them apart just wide enough to press my face between them, my stubble grazing the sensitive skin along her inner thighs on either side of my face, until my tongue reaches her pussy lips. I trace along them, only on the outside, not delving inside her yet.

  She quivers, her hands sliding down to run through my hair, and then fisting in my hair. “I…”

  “Yes?” I arch an eyebrow, sitting back to gaze up at her, over the plane of her body. I love this view. I love everything about my sexy wife.

  I just need her to come around to admitting that she’s mine.

  Her throat works with a tight swallow, but I can tell from the spark in her eyes that she’s still trying to hold out on me. “That feels so good,” she murmurs, instead of what I want.

  So I decide it’s time to play harder.

  I spread her lips with my fingertips and trace my tongue along her slit, back to front, then back again. I let the very tip of my tongue graze her clit, just lightly, just enough of a touch to make her gasp and jerk against the seat. Then I slide lower again, circling her entrance, lapping up her juices.

  Her breath comes harder, faster, and her hands tighten in my hair.

  But I’m not giving her what she wants. Not yet.

  I run my tongue along her clit once more, and smile to myself at the sound of her desperate moan. Then I keep going, trailing my tongue back up her body, until I si
t up and lean over her again, her hands falling away from my head. I lie along her body, the hard press of my cock digging into her and push her hair back from her face.

  “Well?”

  “You’re impossible,” she replies, glaring.

  “I just know what I want,” I answer, and I can see the way the words affect her. The dilation in her eyes, the hitch in her breath.

  “Fine,” she finally breathes, the word both a moan and a sigh. Her gaze locks on mine, and I focus on her too, my face inches from hers. So close I can taste her breath in the air, as she says it. “I want my husband to fuck me,” she whispers.

  It’s the first time she’s ever used that word. It’s the first time she’s called me her husband.

  And it is so fucking hot.

  “Your wish is my command,” I tell her, reaching down to push my own jeans off. She doesn’t wait, her hands trailing after mine, and she pushes my boxers down after them, eager.

  Her hands wrap around the base of my shaft the moment it springs free from my boxers. She needs both hands to wrap all the way around me, and her eyes widen as she takes me in. She traces the length of me, base to tip, her thumb tracing over the soft spongy tip of my cock, collecting a drop of precum there.

  As I watch, she lifts that thumb to her mouth and sucks it between her lips, eyes locked on mine, imitating me, tasting me the way I tasted her.

  Fucking hell, it’s hot.

  “God, my wife is so fucking sexy,” I murmur, as I catch her wrist, and raise one of her arms over her head, pinning her against the seat beneath me.

  With my other hand, I reach down to spread her curvy, luscious thighs to either side of my waist. I grasp the base of my cock and guide the tip to her pussy lips, tracing her lips with the smooth, velvet tip of my cock, pressing hard enough to let her feel the hard steel beneath.

  I dip the tip between her lips, and trace back and forth along her slit, the same way I did with my finger earlier, collecting juices, teasing her, until the tip glistens with her eagerness.

  Only then do I thrust forward, spearing her in one hard, slow motion, my hips driving down against hers as she bucks up against me, moaning wild and low in her throat. “Fuck,” she gasps, as I fill her completely. I can feel her pussy stretching around my cock, tight as a fist around me, so wet it’s easy to draw out of her again and thrust back in, slow but steady.

  She wraps both legs around my waist, hooked up around me, and I reach down to cup her ass with my free hand, my fingers digging into the soft, pillowy skin of her ass.

  “You feel so fucking tight,” I murmur, watching her with a smile. “Wife,” I add, and her breath hitches. She can claim not to want this marriage all she wants, but I can see in her eyes how hot she finds that word. This whole situation.

  Her gaze drifts to mine, locks on. And it stays there as I pull out of her and thrust in again, harder this time, faster.

  Soon she’s rocking her hips in time with mine, thrusting up to meet me every time I drive into her, her breaths coming in short, fast little gasps as we start to move harder, faster.

  “Fuck yes,” she breathes. “Fuck me.”

  I still inside her then, and arch an eyebrow, eyes on hers. “What was that?” I ask. It takes her a second to realize what she said. To figure out what’s missing.

  Her whole face burns bright red, but she’s too far gone to protest. I can see in her eyes how much she wants this now. “Fuck me, husband,” she growls, and that word sends another pulse of desire through me, making this all the hotter as I draw out to thrust inside her again, again.

  She’s mine, and I intend to keep her. To make sure the whole world knows that she belongs to me, no matter what, from now on.

  I angle my hips to make sure my thick cock drags against her inner front wall with every thrust, right along the sweet spot that makes her toes curl and her breath hitch. Watching her come undone beneath me is worth every second of waiting, every moment of teasing and torturing her.

  Her lips part, her eyes lock onto mine, and I smile at her, knowing that she’s starting to realize it too. “You’re mine,” I whisper, against her throat, before I kiss and suck gently along the edge of her jawline, making her fists clench, her nails digging harder into my shoulders.

  “I’m yours,” she breathes, and I can feel her pussy clenching harder around me. This close, she can’t hide the way those words turn her on too—it’s written all over her face, in her eyes, in her every movement, as she pulls me closer, thrusts her hips up into mine harder.

  “Come for me, wife,” I tell her, and those big blue eyes of hers widen. I doubt any man has ever given her such a direct command before. But I keep going, keep thrusting into her, and she keeps arching up to meet me, her breath coming harder and faster. “Come, now,” I say again, putting force behind it, letting her know I mean business.

  And she does. She comes undone beneath me, crying out as the full force of the orgasm hits her, hard enough to make her toes curl and her whole body shake. Her pussy clenches and releases around my hard cock, convulsing in a way that drives me closer to my own edge.

  I don’t wait for her orgasm to pass. I just keep thrusting into her, again and again, until I can’t hold back anymore. With one last hard thrust and a sound that’s almost a growl, I finish deep inside her, my hands digging into her soft curves as I pin her against me, pleasure flooding my body, lighting every inch of me on fire.

  But far from feeling satisfied, when we draw apart again, she only leaves me wanting more. I have a feeling that a woman like her always will.

  * * *

  I drive Mara back to her place, casting sideways glances at her the whole time. “You’re quiet,” I point out, when we’re near the address she gave me to plug into my navigation system.

  “Just tired,” she says, avoiding my eyes. But I notice out of the corner of my eye the way she keeps stealing glances at me, probably when she thinks I’m too busy paying attention to the road to notice her.

  She underestimates my ability to multitask. Or maybe she just underestimates how much I notice about her—how everything she does catches my eye, draws my attention. I couldn’t have chosen a better wife for myself if I’d been trying to do it on purpose.

  That thought sets off a memory. An unpleasant clench in my stomach. But I push it aside, drive it from my head. There will be time to dwell on all of that when she’s not here. When I don’t have more important things—a more important person—to focus on instead.

  I reach across the gear shift to rest my hand on her knee. She leans toward my touch, an unconscious reaction, before she seems to catch herself, and freezes in place. “Relax,” I tell her with a grin. “You can let yourself enjoy this, you know.”

  She starts to laugh before she catches herself and clamps her lips together. She inhales, like she’s going to say something, but after a pause, she just shakes her head. “I had fun tonight,” she says. “A lot of fun.”

  “I know.” My smile widens.

  She rolls her eyes, but she smiles, too. “I just… I don’t know if I want this yet, John. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  “I am,” I tell her. “And I’m never wrong.”

  She sighs, but she reaches down to twine her fingers through mine at the same time. “For some insane reason, I’m starting to hope you might be right,” she admits, her voice soft and low.

  We pull up outside her house, and I lean over to cup her chin, tilting her face toward mine and pulling her into a long, slow, searing kiss. She melts against me, her eyes fluttering shut. But I don’t close mine. I keep them focused on her. On my goal.

  I know what I want, after all. And I’m good at getting it.

  We draw apart, just as my phone starts to buzz. She glances at it, but it’s facedown, so she can’t see whose name is on the screen. “Do you want to get that?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “Later.” Then I draw her back to me, kiss her again, her lips parting beneath mine, melting. I lose track o
f time, of anything but the taste of her, the scent of her, the feel of her in my arms.

  My hands slide down over her curves, toward her belly, past it. I pause at the hem of her jeans, and I feel her arch up against me, feel her starting to breathe harder in anticipation. But before things get too hot and heavy again, I draw back and flash her a sly grin.

  “Think of me tonight when you’re touching yourself,” I tell her. “Tomorrow, I’ll want details.”

  Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t protest. Then I kiss her once more and hit the button to open her door. “Goodnight, John,” she says, her voice hitching on that last word.

  “Sleep well, wife.” I have time to catch the tail end of her smile, before she turns toward her house. I watch to make sure she gets inside safely. Before she closes the door behind herself, I notice her check back over her shoulder, looking at me one last time.

  That only makes my smile widen. I know she’s into this. She may not know it yet, but she wants this marriage every bit as much as I do.

  If perhaps not for exactly the same reasons.

  My phone starts to buzz again, and I frown, shutting my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose for a moment. I ignore the call, letting it go to voicemail, preferring to text rather than talk. I did what you wanted. I’ll bring her to meet you next weekend.

  The moment it finishes sending, I shut my phone off, unwilling to deal with the inevitable fallout that will no doubt cause. Then I heave another deep sigh as I pull away from the curb, Mara’s house vanishing in my rearview mirror, and wonder if I’m doing the right thing.

  8

  Mara

  After a week of working together, I’m still not sure how I feel about… well, any of this. But I love my work, and I’ve been really enjoying getting my hands dirty in the shop every day. Not to mention, training Daniel has been fun—he’s a fast learner, and ever since his first mishap with the machinery, he’s been good about asking me for help when he tries out any of the machines for the first time.