Page 110 of Marry Lies
“You know you love it,” I tease.
“I do. I love all your shit so fucking much.”
My heart is hammering in my chest as he pushes the door open, his lips crashing down against mine again. He walks us to his bedroom, tongue darting into my mouth. I hear him kick the door closed as he deposits us both onto the bed and crawls on top of me.
“Shower,” I say against his mouth.
“No time. I need you now,” he growls, pulling my lower lip between his teeth and then ripping my blouse off. I hear the buttons hit the floor.
I arch my back as he groans, reaching to take my belt off.
“Shoes.”
“Fuck, you’re wearing too many things, wife. I want you naked.”
I laugh as he scoots down to the edge of the bed. Sitting on his heels, he gives me a rakish smile before reaching for my left foot, unzipping the boot, and discarding it onto the floor. He does the same with the other shoe.
Sliding his hands up my trousers, his fingers slowly pull the zipper down before he drags them down my legs. I expect him to climb on top of me again, but instead he hooks a finger along the seam of my knickers, tugging them down just as slowly. My bra is the next casualty.
“Miles—”
“Spread your legs,” he commands, rocking back on his heels as his hands come to the inside of my thighs, pushing them apart.
“But, I’m going to taste like sea water—”
His pupils darken as he pushes my knees apart, eyes hungry and predatory before darting back to my face.
“Do you think I fucking care?”
My breathing hitches as he runs a hand along the inside of my thigh, and I tremble at his touch. I’ve never had anyonethisclose and personal with my fanny, but he seems to be enjoying it.
Which of course turns me the fuck on.
“Look up, butterfly. I want you to watch as your husband devours your perfect cunt.”
I barely have time to register his words before he’s tugging my bottom farther down the bed and draping one of my legs over his shoulders.
Holy shit.
I tilt my chin up and look up at the large mirror above his bed, nearly gasping at the image I see. I’m spread out on the orange duvet, and Miles’s face dives between my legs, gently biting the inside of my thigh. I moan and arch my back, observing the way his hands dig into the flesh of my thighs.
“Miles,” I whimper.
“Do you want me to fuck your cunt with my tongue, Estelle?”
“God, yes.”
“Don’t you dare close your eyes. Watch me. Watchus.”
Before I can agree, he laves his tongue down my slit, and the sound that escapes my throat is barely human. When I watch my reflection, I can see how my legs are trembling slightly. I hear Miles’s belt clinking before the image registers in my mind, and my mouth drops open as he licks top to bottom again. He inserts one long, curved finger inside of me, and with his other hand, he pulls his erect cock free, stroking it slowly.
“See what you do to me?” he murmurs against my moans. “The sight, the taste, the scent of your perfect slit, so wet on my tongue…”
“Fuck me,” I rasp, a feeling of ecstasy flowing through me.
“Trust me, Estelle. I’m going to fuck you until you can barely walk tomorrow.”
I arch my back and whimper at his words. Curling my toes, I reach out and run a hand through his hair, my eyes not leaving the mirror above us.
