Page 125 of Beyond the Stroke

But I’ve had to be careful with her. While I’m hanging by a thread with my desire for her, I know she needs to make this decision on her own.

She licks her lips. “I—” She hesitates, before her gaze meets mine again. “Will you talk to me?”

Her eyes fall to the spot on the bed beside her, then back to me.

“Yeah.”I’ll do anything you need me to.It’s the truth. In this moment, and all the ones after with her. But Summer isn’t ready to hear that. I wonder if she will ever be ready to hear the truth of how I feel about her. That my emotions already overstepped the line we figuratively drew when we came up with this arrangement. Each day with her is making me both thankful and regretful for our agreement. If this is as close to touching her as I’ll ever get, then I’ll take it.

I find my place on the bed beside her. Lowering down to my side, I tuck my arm underneath the pillow, then rest my head on it.

She settles back down on the bed and the scent of her drifts over me. Coconut sunscreen and citrus shampoo with a hint of sweat and the muskiness of sex. Her sex. My gaze follows her hand as she inches up the hem of her t-shirt, and her fingers return to her center.

“What should I talk about, Summer?”

“Anything. I just need to hear your voice.”

The way her voice pitches on the word need makes my chest expand with pride. I need to stroke myself like I’ve never needed a release but I hold back, focusing on my beautiful wife.

“I have to admit I saw your pretty pussy from across the room. I bet you’re so soft and smooth.”

“Hmm.” She bites down on her lip, then slowly releases it. “Tell me what to do.”

“Be a good wife and show me how you like to finger-fuck yourself.”

She nods, letting her hand drop between her legs again.

“Slip a finger in.”

Her wrist arches with the movement.

“Now rub your clit with your other hand.”

“Rory. Yes.”

Her hips lift, rocking in rhythm to her fingers. I can hear how wet she is and it’s taking everything in me to not slide a hand between her legs and feel her.

“That’s it, Wildflower. Fuck that pretty cunt until your fingers are soaked.”

Her soft pant indicates she likes what I’m saying.

My cock begs for me to join in on the action, but it’ll only distract me from watching her. And I fucking love watching her touch herself.

“You’re such a good wife, Summer. Letting me see you like this.”

“I wanted you to see me,” she admits on a gasp and I wonder if her pleasure is making her say things she wouldn’t normally.

“You did?”

She bites down on her lower lip and nods.

“I’m glad. I like the show, baby.”

And fuck, I do.

All I can do is stare as her chest rises and falls. Her nipples straining obscenely against the cotton of her shirt.

“You’re so god damn beautiful.”

Another cry and she comes hard, the soles of her feet pressing into the mattress while her hips lift off the bed. I’m entranced by the way her face pinches tightly before going slack.

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