Page 149 of Beyond the Stroke

That look alone sends me spiraling toward my orgasm.

“I going to come.” It’s a warning, but Summer doesn’t release me. She sucks me deeper until I explode against her tongue, my cock pulsing deep in her throat.

“Summer…” I murmur, my voice a rasp that barely forms the word. I want more than this, more than just the heat between us, more than what we’ve shared tonight. But I don't know how to say it. Not yet.

forty

. . .

SUMMER

Sucking Rory’s cock, seeing how I affect him, and watching him come will forever be burned into my brain. That, as well as how devilishly handsome he looked peering up from between my legs while he fucked me with a paintbrush handle. That moment, and how turned on it made me, will never be forgotten.

But being intimate with Rory had brought up feelings from the past. When I’d reached to touch him, I’d had a moment of hesitation, old insecurities creeping in, but with his reassuring words and sweet kisses, Rory helped me push them aside.

With his arms wrapped around my midsection, he pulls me closer against him. That feels impossible since we’re already sandwiched together on the futon. He’s shirtless, having only pulled his joggers back on while I stole his hoodie.

“New marriage rule.” He presses a kiss to my jaw, his hands exploring beneath the hoodie I’m wearing. “Orgasms, every day.”

“You really think you’re going to find time for that with your schedule?” I tease, nuzzling against his bare shoulder.

But seriously, his schedule is insane.

“I always find time for the things that matter the most to me.”

“Like orgasms?” My lips twitch with amusement.

“Sure, but really anything that has to do with you.” His voice is low and tender. When I glance up to see his face, he’s smiling softly at me. “My wife.”

My throat tightens, which instinctively makes me want to laugh it off. Say something snarky, but the look in his eyes makes it impossible.

Why does he do this to me?

Why is he making me start to feel things I promised myself I wouldn’t?

I swallow, forcing a grin. “You’re annoyingly good at this fake marriage thing.”

Even as I try to remind us what this is, my heart pounds too fast against my ribs. It’s beating to its own rhythm, completely ignoring my brain’s warnings. To not let Rory’s sweet words blur the lines.

“It’s easy to pretend with you.” He slides a finger along my jaw. “So easy, I don’t have to fake it.”

My fingers, still exploring his chest, unwilling to let go.

“What about you? I think you like being held more than you let on.”

I bite my lip, remembering the night he proposed this marriage of convenience. How I’d shoved him away when he tried to sit beside me in the booth. A reflex I’d honed in my last relationship.

You’re too needy, Summer. I can’t give you attention all the time.

Holding hands? What are we, in middle school?

Maybe I’d want you to touch me more if you weren’t so clingy.

“Remember when you asked what my love language is?”

“Yeah, and you told me it was personal space.”

He slips a warm hand underneath my—his—sweatshirt.

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