Lib Novel Page 104
“That was pretty fast. How much practice do you have?”
He smirks. “Sometimes it’s not about practice but motivation. And right now, my motivation to fuck you is off the charts.”
While I sit naked on Charles’ bed, trying to not be self-conscious, he leans back. And before I can scream at him to come back, he toes off his shoes.
My order-obsessed husband and boss kicks his shoes in different directions before removing his socks. I’m still reeling when he unbuttons his cuffs and slides his cufflinks into his pants pocket before undoing his shirt buttons and taking it off. I take in everything—his chest, broad enough to prove he’s into sports but not wide like he’s spending merciless hours in a gym.
My gaze moves lower to his tapered waist and the happy trail starting above his navel and hiding in his pants. But not for long, as Charles unhooks his belt, and then his pants are off. Those gray boxers I’ve only seen in packaging until now look mighty supreme as he saunters toward me.
His knee rests on the edge of the bed, and it dips under his weight.
“You have no idea how fucking hot you look, Daisy.”
“Right back at you.”
Charles chuckles, pushing down his boxers, and I need a moment to savor the sight.
“You did inherit some great family jewels.”
“Have I told you how much I appreciate your running mouth?” He cocks an eyebrow as I watch him put on a condom.
I nod with a laugh, but it dies when Charles pulls on my feet and I slide down until I’m sprawled on the bed like a starfish.
His eyes shine as he looks at my sex.
“Wet and glistening, my dear wife. Is it all for me?”
“Do you really want an answer to that question?” I cock my brow, when my insides are shivering.
“I do, especially when I know it’s going to be a breathy, horny yes.” Charles’ smirk is perfectly timed, because the moment he brings his cock against my opening and runs it over my wet lips, I can’t bite back my moan—a breathy, horny moan, exactly like he expected.
“You’re a vision, Daisy. Better than any of my fantasies.”
I don’t know what I want more, for Charles to keep talking and tell me in detail all he imagined with me, or for him to fuck me like I imagined he would.
And thank God he isn’t waiting for any input from me, because in the next second, he thrusts inside me, inch by inch.
My sex, which hasn’t seen any action in months, is all ready for him. But my insides need a few moments to adjust when he’s fully seated.
“Tell me if it hurts,” Charles grits above me.
“It will only hurt if you stop,” I grit right back.
It does hurt a little, but it also feels good—real good.
“Fuck, you’re big.” I groan. Or is it a moan?
“I hope that isn’t a complaint.”
“Hell no. But can you move now, Charles?”
Before he does that, Charles grabs my left hand, which is clutching his forearm, and places it over his heart. My wedding band and daisy ring stand proud against the contrast of our skin.
My heartbeat halts at that simple act in the middle of our frenzy. I feel like this is his way of saying what we’re doing is more than just sex, and I’m nervous and excited to find that meaning when Charles is buried deep inside me.
His face is serious as he continues to stare at me as if the same emotion runs through him, and his lips curl on one side.
And then Charles fucks me with long, measured thrusts. Each push seems to have a purpose, and if it’s to make me forget my name, it does a damn good job.