Page 12 of A Different Kind Of December
His dick is hard and hot as I stroke him from root to tip, rubbing my thumb over his slit each time I get to the top.
He throws his head back, and I admire what I can see of his throat, but I need more.
I stop my stroking and grab at the hem of his hoodie, he catches on to what I’m doing and helps me to ease him out of it.
“Top off, I need to see you, Kitten.”
He leans back on his palms and watches as I pull my T-shirt over my head. I reach behind me to take off my bra but pause when he orders, “No, leave it on. Lift your tits out, I wanna see them.” My internal muscles tighten, and my thighs grip his hips. I fucking love it when he gets all bossy in the bedroom.
I look down at my peach coloured La Perla bra and then back up at Cam, who’s still staring at my chest.
“You do it,” I whisper. He shakes his head.
“No. You do it. Pull down the lace and play with your nipples for me.”
“T.” I sigh.
“Do it, Kitten. Right fucking now.”
I look down at my boobs. Goose bumps cover my skin, and my nipples are like bullets. I rub each of my palms over them through my bra before pulling down the cups and leaving them exposed.
“Fuck me, Kitten, you look so fucking beautiful right now. Stroke my cock baby. Grip it tight and stroke.”
Again, with no hesitation, I do exactly what he says. Clear cum is leaking from the tip of his dick, and my hand slides up and down smoothly.
His hand goes to the small of my back, he pulls me closer and covers my left nipple with his mouth.
“Need you. Need you inside me.”
“I know, baby, I know.”
Without another word, Cam flips me onto my back, pulls off my leggings, and buries himself exactly where I need him.
We groan out our pleasure in unison. He slides his hands under my arse cheeks, tilts my hips up, and drives deeper.
I hook my legs around his thighs and dig my nails intohisarse cheeks, pulling him into me harder.
“Fuck, I love when you do that,” he pants.
“I want more.”
“I know, but I love it when you show me how much.”
We fuck.
It isn’t lovemaking. We did that last night.
This is fucking.
This is my perfect husband fucking the sadness out of his not so perfect wife.
He knows exactly what I need, and he’s delivered it with perfect timing.
He fucks me to the point of distraction. Completely senseless. He fucks me until I forget my name, the date, and the horrible events that changed my life seventeen long years ago.
A
fter another quick shower, Iarrive downstairs to find that Harry and George have abandoned the decorations that are spread all over the hallway and the girls are sitting on the floor going through the very last box.
