Page 86 of Marry Lies
I squeeze my thighs together.
“Do you like it rough?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly.
His index finger slips higher, grazing the outside of my knickers. He lets out a low chuckle.
“I do, and I think you do too,” he says, running his finger along my slit.
I can feel how wet I am by the way he’s pressing against my skin. The way my knickers are sticking to the space between my thighs, the way his heart is pounding behind me…
The way he’s breathing heavily underneath me, like he can’t get himself under control.
I don’t want him to control himself.
The man pushes the woman against the bed, her thighs hitting the edge, and then he takes her hips and lifts her onto the mattress gently, stomach down. Stepping out of his boxers, he strokes himself several times as the woman lifts her arse up for him to admire. Letting out a pleased grunt, he crawls on top of her, a large, anticipatory smile on his face as he murmurs into her ear, his hand sliding up between her legs. They’re comfortable with each other; I can tell by the way his hands peruse her skin like he’s done it a thousand times before. She moans when he pushes her thighs apart.
I squirm on Miles’s lap when I see him insert his middle finger inside of her.
“Like what you see?” he asks, his hand brushing gently against my clit.
My skin flushes, and everything feels hot and heavy. My head drops back as I lean into Miles, spreading my legs wider so that he has better access.
“That’s it,” he purrs. “Spread your legs like the good little wife I know you are.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Even though I don’t want to miss watching the couple in front of us, his words send a flash of electricity through me that renders me completely boneless. My legs are quivering slightly, and my pussy clenches around nothing as one of his fingers hooks underneath my knickers, moving them to the side.
I gasp as he slides two fingers up and down my soaking core, and without warning, he plunges them deep inside of me. I moan as my hands fly out, gripping the material clinging to his thighs for purchase so I don’t fly off him.
“Miles,” I whimper.
“You’re so wet for me, butterfly.” He groans against the back of my neck. “Do you know what you’re going to do for me?” he asks, his voice dipping an octave. He continues before I can answer, curling his fingers slightly as he slowly massages my inner walls, removing them almost all the way. “You’re going to pull your dress down and play with your nipples while I fuck you with my hand.”
I jerk as he pushes back inside of me. “Yes—”
“I’m not done,” he murmurs. “Keep those pretty lips closed unless you’re screaming and coming all over my cufflinks, Estelle.”
I nod but don’t say anything. My breathing stutters as he slowly curves his fingers and pulls them out of me.
“I want you to play with your tits while I make you come, okay?”
I nod, my eyes fluttering open and closed as I watch the man in the glass room pull back and admire his partner’s arse. He spreads her wider, and she moans when he enters her, holding onto her hips and pulling them up slightly so that she’s propped up on his thighs. He’s truly and properly fucking her—the way her hands are tied behind her back and her legs are around his thighs as she rests on her stomach…she’s completely and totally unable to move. He pulls her harder, the smacking of their skin permeating the air around us.
The woman moans again, and I let out a low moan of my own as Miles’s other hand comes to my chest, undoing the little tie to loosen my neckline. My nipples tighten in anticipation. He nudges it down so the top falls off my shoulders, falling past my breasts and exposing them to the cold air.
I hadn’t worn a bra, and I feel the deep vibration of Miles’s groan as he realizes.
He presses a kiss to my shoulder. “You’re so fucking perfect, do you know that?” His praise makes me keen as I writhe against his wrist. “Play with those flawless nipples. I want to feel you squeeze my fingers before you squeeze my cock,” he adds.
I circle my hips at his words. Such filthy, dirty words. I’ve never been spoken to like this—and certainly not in bed.
“You like the thought of fucking your husband, don’t you?” he asks, moving his fingers deeper.
“Yes,” I gasp out, my hips rocking against his arm. I spread my legs as wide as they’ll go, and Miles growls in approval.
“There you go.”
I watch the couple on the bed in front of me as Miles works his hand faster. My hands come up to my nipples, twisting and pulling at them as shockwaves of pleasure sear through me. I moan again when Miles’ teeth sink into the area between my neck and shoulder, arching my back. My core flutters around Miles’ fingers.
He adds a thumb to my clit, pressing directly down, and I cry out loudly.
