Page 109 of Bad Habit
“Oh, Mac, I love you so much.” And I wanted him to fuck me. Fuck me hard and fast, fuck me slow and gentle, fuck me until neither of us could take any more.
I still didn't like to say that word aloud, but in my head it was perfect.
And speaking of perfect, his erection was hard and red and standing so close to his stomach I knew it must be painfully engorged. I reached toward it, wanting to feel its rigid girth in my palm, to guide it where I needed it to be, but he tucked his arms under my thighs, put my legs up on his shoulders, and lifted my lower half off the bed so I was supported only by my neck and shoulders.
“You okay?” he asked, and I nodded, panting from the shock, the thrill.
Then his eyes disappeared from my sightline as his mouth took my sex.
He’d turned the tables on my ravishing plan, but I didn’t complain. His tongue plunged and licked, his lips kissed and sucked, and when I was just about to come, he lowered my hips to the mattress and plunged a finger inside me.
After a few strokes, he added another, and I arched up to absorb the intrusion as he bent to suck on my clit.
His fingers pumped inside me as the clit suction brought me to an orgasm that stole my sanity, wracking my entire body, and I bucked as wave after wave of pleasure flowed through me, followed by aftershocks as he flicked my sensitive bud with his tongue.
As I was coming down, he kissed up and down the soft skin of my inner thighs. “How was that, my wife?”
“Oh.” Barely able to talk, I stroked my fingers through his hair. “My husband. That was the best. The best ever.”
“I'm glad, because now I’m going to fuck you.” His voice was a near growl as he entered me slowly, pushing forward one delicious inch at a time. Our gazes remained locked, letting each of us bear witness to how this felt for the other, how every new millimeter of penetration felt better than the last until he was seated deep inside of me.
He stroked hair out of my face and gently kissed me as we lay together, him on top and inside of me, him part of me, and I wanted to live like this—exactly like this—for the rest of our lives.
But my lower half had different ideas. My hips moved of their own volition, pumping against his still body.
Then he started to move too, starting with long, slow strokes, me gasping as each one hit home. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, that I couldn’t feel it any deeper, he tucked his hands under my legs and pushed them back up near my ears, then he drove into me faster and harder, making me moan in this immobilized position, and I loved yielding to him, feeling utterly his. I wanted to do the same for him.
“Turn over.” I pushed on his shoulder.
“As you wish,” he quoted his brothers’ favorite movie as he rolled onto his back, pulling me along so I straddled him, his cock still buried deep inside me.
I adjusted my position, letting gravity push me down so he was in even deeper, and then with my hands on his chest, our gazes connected, I started to rock. The friction of the slight movement of his thick rod inside me was literally breathtaking, and soon I was panting, so greedy to have more and more and more of Mac.
Rising higher on my knees, I rode him, rising up and down as fast as my body allowed, loving how sweat rose on his chest, how the veins on his neck protruded, how his organ filled me so completely, giving me pleasure and comfort and joy all at once.
His face strained as his orgasm neared, and I loved seeing him come from this angle. Slowing my bouncing, I reached behind me to find his testicles, and when I touched them his hips bucked up, pushing hard, driving him in even deeper.
“Holy shit, Faith.”
“That good?” I cupped his sex organs lightly as I moved above him.
His breaths came faster and faster, and then his hand slid to our intersection and found my clit. He rubbed me there as I bounced above him, so connected in lust, in pleasure, in love.
“Now, baby. Now. Are you ready?” His voice was hoarse, and I nodded, unable to speak as I felt my orgasm rise. His hips drove him up off the mattress as he shouted my name and his face twisted with ecstasy, our ecstasy.
We'd come together before—twice before—but never like this, and my breaths came in shallow bursts as my insides convulsed around him and his hips continued to buck and twist and thrust inside me.
When I couldn’t take anymore, I collapsed onto his chest and he held me, our lungs synchronizing their timing and our hands roaming each other's bodies.
My brain started to function again, and I lifted my head to look into his eyes. “Um, Mac?”
“Yes, baby?”
I cringed at the word, given what I was thinking.
“What's wrong?” he said with alarm.
“We forgot to use a condom. We've been so careful after that time in Las Vegas.”
