Page 99 of Desperate People

All it takes is his lips closing over my clit, just one more pull from his hot, wet, mouth—and I am done.

“HUSBAND!”

Chapter Twenty-Three-Balor

I don’t have any gentleness left in me when I pull my sexy as fuck wife down onto my lap.

She’s limp, boneless from taking her pleasure.

Fuck, I can still taste her, smell her on my skin.

I am so damn obsessed with this woman.

And I am nowhere near done with her.

Starving for her, I don’t have time to do anything but free my cock and flex my hips, then bam, I am balls deep inside her sopping wet sheath.

And it—it’s like coming home.

Not to a place. To her.

Her flushed face, wild with pleasure.

Those precious jewels that are her eyes, burning with something deeper than lust.

Her mouth, kiss-bruised and parted on a gasp that sounds like my name turned prayer.

This body I can’t get enough of—soft, strong, mine.

She doesn’t even realize the power she holds over me.

Doesn’t see how she’s taken every jagged edge I’ve ever carried and smoothed it with a touch, a sigh, a look.

And now that I’ve had her?

There’s no going back.

I’ll ruin myself a thousand times if it means keeping her.

She’s not just under my skin—she’s in my blood. My bones. My fucking soul.

She came once already, but three’s always been my lucky number, and I slide my hand between us.

I’m determined to get two right now.

“Balor,” she moans, mouth wide as I flex and rub.

“Gonna give me one more, Diamond Girl. Right now.”

She shakes her head. That long mane of hers whipping from side to side. She thinks she can’t. But that’s not true, I know she can.

“You feel so fucking good, Wife. Better than I dreamed.”

“You make me feel so full,” she moans, her hands clutching at my shoulders.

And I wish my shirt was off so she could leave marks on me with those pretty painted nails of hers. That’s how fucked up I am.

I want her to brand me. To claim me like I’m claiming her.

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