Our bodies are so hot, we’re perspiring and damp as we keep petting. She knows each of my muscles, but it always feels like she’s memorizing me. I know every inch of her body, but I want to live in every inch, kiss, lick, eat, bite, every inch.
I do, and then she’s writhing and fisting her hands in my hair, mewing, “I’m going to come.”
“Yes you are,” I murmur, and I seize her by the waist and I drag her down to my erection, watching the little pulse flutter at the base of her throat as she takes me. Groaning, I duck to dip my tongue into the crevice at the bottom of her throat as the head of my c**k goes in.
The breath ripples out of her lips, and she grips my biceps and mews softly.
“Do you like it?” I rasp.
“I like everything you do to me.”
I lower my head and bite her near her shoulder, the sweet, smooth curves of her bottom in the cup of my hand as she slides lower and lower. She tries to go down the last inch, and I stop and lift her so I can lick her nipple.
I give it a good, long lick, then I blow air over the puckered tip. Her eyes pop open in surprise, and she shivers and starts rocking against me. “Remington,” she pleads, tilting her h*ps to my erection.
I roll her over to her back. “What do you want?”
Cheeks flushed with arousal, her eyes are brilliant gold. “I want my husband,” she says, sliding her fingers up my pecs. “Right now. All of him.”
I take her legs and part them open as I bend over, the damp spot between her legs driving me wild. But first I move my mouth down her thigh to kiss the scar on her knee, then I work my mouth back up. “You want his c**k but what about his tongue.” My mouth hovers above her pu**y and I lick the damp spot.
She gasps my name and grips the back of my head, cupping me. “Yes,” she breathes, moaning.
“Where do you want it,” I murmur, and I slide a finger into her panties and then into her sex while I roll her cl*t with the tip of my tongue, nothing but that thin, wet fabric between us. Her folds are slick and swollen. I insert one finger, then two, as I push my tongue over her clit. She comes and drenches my fingers, and I pull them out and make her suck them.
With a hungry noise, she pushes me onto my back. I fall willingly and pull her on top of me. Her thighs straddle mine and she moans at the contact of our skin. She rubs her sex against my dick through the underwear and caresses her fingers up my chest. I groan and sit up to squeeze her br**sts in my hand, a primal nature to conquer and roll her around and f**k her coursing through me, winning over. I roll her over, then reach between us to play with her pu**y as I lick one nipple. She tastes as good as she f**king smells, and I bury my head in her neck and inhale as her thighs spread wide beneath my weight, and I hold her lingerie open so I can tease her folds with the head of my cock.
She moans again and rocks her hips. “Oh yes.” Her legs spread wider open beneath me, hot and inviting. She tilts her h*ps and sinks her nails into the flesh of my back. “Remy,” she tells me in my ear, reverently, as if I’m her god and this, us, here, is our real church.
“We’re mating all night,” I tell her, looking into her face and rubbing the head of my c**k along the fleshy part of her lips.
“All night,” she agrees.
Gripping the lace between her legs, I rip open her panties. “I’m coming inside you.”
“Yes.”
I pull her arms up and shove up inside. “Inside my wife.”
“Yes,” she pants against my ear, thrashing as I fill her. “Oh, yes.”
Pinning her down by the hips, I groan and start moving in her, our bodies hot, slicked with sweat. She moans, I groan and pulse inside her, our bodies moving together, fast and hungry for more, slapping as she tilts her h*ps upward and I push downward, wanting as close as I can get.
I tongue her ear, her neck, then her ni**les, one at a time, my hands rasping up her sides, her fingers gripping me closer, her lips in my ear as we lose it, out of control.
I love you, she gasps
No, f**k, no, I love you.
She thrashes and shudders beneath me, coming fast and hard, and as her pu**y clenches my cock, I start ejaculating inside her, clenching my arms around her shaking body and letting her take me with her. I growl softly in her neck, biting the curve of her neck as I go off inside her for a third time, and she moans in pleasure until we’re both panting and sated, my tongue rubbing out the spot I just bit.
I shift to spare her my weight when she whispers, “Don’t pull out. Please. I need you in me.”
I roll to my back and bring her with me, and she sighs and cuddles, catching her breath while I slide my hands down her body and to her ass. I nudge her head back with my nose, murmuring, “I still want you,” and when she looks up, I take her mouth and start kissing her, using my hands on her ass to start rocking her over my cock.
With a guttural sound in her throat, she grabs my hair and pushes her tongue hungrily against mine, starting to ride me.
“That’s right, baby,” I croon, grabbing her h*ps and moving her on me, sucking her tongue, nipping at her bottom lip. “That’s right, take me, ride me, show me how much you need me.”
She sits back and rides me harder, and I rise up to feast on her tits and clench her ass cheeks as she moves recklessly on me. “Remy,” she gasps, and I know she’s close. She’s hot and wet and tight as f**k around me, and I groan as my body tightens and the pleasure gathers at the base of my spine.
“You’re my Real, little firecracker. You’re my everything.”
My stomach tightens when I remember the song he played me. The suite still smells of roses. I’ve heard the guys banter with him, telling him to get me something other than roses, something less old-fashioned. He won’t budge. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks about it, only what he believes they mean, and he uses them to talk to me. To tell me he loves me.
Remington is big on actions, even if he might not know it. He’s always proving, in so many ways, who he is, and what he feels. And I’ve done something . . . that I hope talks to him. Just like his roses and his songs talk to me.
Tummy clenching in anticipation, I turn to the nightstand and get one of my hair bands, which I tie around my wrist when I don’t use it to pull my hair in a ponytail. “Will you help me put this on?” I ask, passing it back as an excuse.
He sits up and lifts my hair, and I love how he lifts my hair with one hand while apparently trying to figure out how to use it with the other.