Page 56 of Six Month Wife
I should walk away. Tell him we need boundaries. Remind him—and myself—that this is all a performance.
Instead, I let him kiss me again.
Because I don’t have to decide what this means tonight.
We can fall into bed, and I can stillpretendI’m keeping him at arm’s length.
Right?
I close my eyes as his lips explore my neck, gentle at first, feather-light, tracing a path down to my collarbone.
My breath hitches, and my heart flutters like I’ve forgotten how to breathe. His fingertips trail up my sides, slipping beneath my shirt. Slowly, carefully, he eases it upward, grazing my skin as he moves.
The cool air teases my skin, raising goosebumps as my shirt hits the floor.
His mouth finds my shoulder, placing kisses there, soft, teasing little touches that send sparks shooting down my spine. When his hands move to the clasp of my bra, I tilt my head back, giving in completely.
He unhooks it, guiding the straps gently down my arms. My chest rises sharply with anticipation, nipples tightening as the delicate fabric slips away. Standing there, half-naked and vulnerable, I tremble, not from cold, but from the way he’s looking at me, hungry and reverent all at once.
“So damn sexy,” he murmurs, his eyes dark and intense as he takes in every inch of exposed skin.
He steps forward, bowing his head to gently kiss each nipple. My lungs forget how to work again, and sex floods between my thighs, making me ache for him.
His hands drift lower now, fingertips brushing the tender area below my belly button beneath my skirt. He undoes the back zipper slowly, carefully, teasing me with deliberate patience. Each tug, each movement, makes my pulse hammer louder, faster.
Soon, my pencil skirt is a crumpled heap at our feet, followed by my underwear, leaving nothing but air and raw hunger between us.
My eyes lock on his as he pulls off his clothes, piece by deliberate piece, unwrapping his gorgeous body for me. The muscles of his torso flex, shadows playing across his defined chest and abs.
My gaze dips lower, and I inhale sharply at the sight of his thick cock, long, hard, and ready. My pussy throbs with a deep, needy pulse that echoes through me.
“I want you,” I whisper, unable to resist touching him. My fingers wrap around his warm, rigid length, savoring the velvet texture of his skin.
His breath shudders as my grasp tightens slightly,stroking him in a slow, teasing rhythm. His eyes flash with raw desire, and his jaw tenses as I quicken my pace. My voice drops to a husky murmur as I lean closer, brushing my lips against his.
“I want you to put this…” I stroke him harder, faster, reveling in his sharp intake of breath, knowing exactly how much he wants me, too.
“…inside me.” My arm burns, but I don’t stop. The friction, the motion, all of it is bringing me to the brink of coming without even a touch. Now, he has to finish it.
“Now.”
I gasp as he lifts me onto the counter in one smooth, powerful move. My breath stutters when his strong hands grab my thighs, spreading my legs wide, making room for him, and then he slowly kisses down.
Heat blooms deep inside me as his lips trail slowly up my inner thigh, leaving a burning path toward my core.
“Ladies first,” he says, that wicked smirk tugging at his mouth as he sinks to his knees.
Then hebreathesagainst me. It's warm, and humid, and teasing. I jolt like I’ve been struck. One shudder, and I’m already unraveling.
And then his tongue, slow and confident andprecise,licks me from one end to the other. The first stroke is soft, almost reverent, and my fingers curl tight around the counter’s edge as my hips lurch toward him.
“Parker—” It comes out like a warning. Or maybe a plea.
He hums low, satisfied, like he’s tasted something he plans to savor. His hands slide under my ass and pull me closer to the edge, opening me wider. He anchors me there while he devours me like I’m the only thing he’s hungry for.
His tongue moves with maddening patience. Circlingand flicking, causing my body to react involuntarily. Each motion is designed to wreck me slowly. My thighs quiver around his shoulders, desperate and weak.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp. “God, don’t stop.”
