Page 52 of Reclaiming Izabel

Staying as still as a statue was a great fucking idea.

After Izabel finished, she moved back behind me and cupped my jaw. “I’m gonna work on your beard line.”

I chuckled. “You don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I want to.” She smeared shaving gel on my cheek.

“Want to find your husband beneath the scruff?”

“You can say that. Now, hush before I cut you.”

I closed my mouth, because the back of my head was more or less cradled on her tits.

Fuck.

Torture. Fucking sweet torture.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Brick in a skirt.

Brick in a tutu.

Fuck. It wasn’t working.

Izabel released my jaw and backed away. A warm, wet towel wiped the gel from my face.

I opened my eyes and stared at my reflection—and recognized a man I hadn’t seen in three years. My eyes shifted to Izabel’s and the watery smile on her face told me what I needed to know—my wife had found her husband.

“Drake…”

A growl escaped my throat as I swiveled on the stool and grabbed her hips. Her laughter was cut short when I lifted her and planted her ass on the counter. The towel falling away exposed my fully erect cock.

Izabel’s hand wrapped around my throbbing erection.

“Fuck, Izabel.” My eyes drilled into her fevered ones. “Are you sure?”

Her “yes” was needy, and I was a slave to her every need.

I framed her face and kissed her, devouring her lips like a man starved. Our tongues tangled. I was acutely aware of her soft hands stroking my cock and squeezing.

I knocked her hands away. “Enough.”

She protested and tried to grab me again, but I foiled her attempt.

“Too much,” I growled. I yanked at the drawstrings of her sweatpants as she took off her shirt. I stripped it off her legs and moved between them again, pressing close. Claiming her lips, I dug a hand behind her underwear.

Hot. Wet.

I plunged a finger inside her and she moaned into my mouth.

“Fuck, Iza.” I trailed kisses down her neck and slipped off the strap of her bra so I could devour her gorgeous tits. I swalloweda nipple, sucking and licking as a second finger joined the first. She was fucking tight as her slick inner muscles suctioned my fingers.

“Inside me, Drake!” she whimpered.

I looked up from eating her tit—“don’t rush me”—and resumed feasting on her body. She cried out as she came on my fingers and I continued to wring out every shudder of her orgasm as I lavished her skin with attention. I couldn’t wait to taste her, to have her juices on my tongue.

I plucked her from the counter and her legs automatically wrapped around me. Walking to the still-dark bedroom, I planted a knee on the bed and dropped her ass near the edge of the mattress. My knees hit the floor and I yanked her panties.

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