Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
I watch with wide, eager eyes as Trey lowers himself to his knees, pushing my knees further apart to settle between them. His tongue meets my sensitive skin, warm and seeking, and he laps up the sweet, pink frosting from my thigh. I shudder, burning up as the warmth of his mouth trails higher and higher until his face is pressed between my legs, kissing me over the lace of my very wet panties.
“You’ve given me a sweet tooth,” he mumbles as my hips jerk into his touch. “Let me have my fill of your taste, sweet girl. Then I’ll fill this perfect body up again and again until I get to see this soft stomach swell again.”
Dear God, his dirty tongue is going to actually be the death of me. It’s been three years, but I’m sure I’ll never get used to the filthy things he says or the way they send my desire to new trembling heights.
“Yes,” I whisper, voice breathy and full of need.
Trey fulfills his promise until neither of us can keep our eyes open anymore, and we collapse into bed, panting and sated and so damn happy I smile even as I fall asleep.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
TREY
Five Years Later
“Ican’t believe we’ve been married for eight whole years.” Talia sighs on our way to our hotel room from the pool.
She’s wearing some thin cover-up thing over her blue bikini, but her skin is still damp, making the thin pink robe translucent as it grows wet. Basically, it covers up exactly nothing. Which suits me just fine because now I have the perfect view of her ass while she climbs up the stairs in front of me. I have to rip my eyes away from the sight, my cock stirring with interest in my shorts. There’s not a single moment of a single day that I don’t want her.
We get to our room, and I lean around her to swipe the card for entry. “Best fucking eight years of my life.”
She grins as we step inside, turning to look at me over her shoulder, wet hair stuck to her skin so she looks like some sort of irresistible siren I’m more than happy to jump into the water for.
“Mine too,” she agrees, heading for the bathroom and shedding her robe at the doorway.
As much as I want to jump in the shower with her, I resist. We have tickets to a Broadway show and then a reservation for dinner and drinks at a fancy restaurant Talia mentioned once she really wanted to visit, and I know she’ll be devastated if we miss either of those things.
I’m excited for them too, but not because I particularly care about the musical or the food. No, I just like seeing the excitement and joy on my wife’s face. I love the way she lights up or does that happy little moan when she eats something she loves. Plus, I called ahead and made sure to pre-order one of every dessert on their menu so she could try one of everything I knew she’d love.
Our kids, all four of them, are with our parents for the weekend so we have two days together uninterrupted by our two sets of twins. We adore our girls, of course, but I’m more than excited to have my wife to myself all weekend with nothing to distract us from each other.
While she showers, I unpack the dress I bought her for tonight then get dressed in a suit, my tie the same purple as her dress. When the shower turns off, I open the door, knowing she hasn’t locked it just in case I change my mind and join her, and pass her the dress.
“What’s this?” She takes it from the other side of the door.
“For you,” I tell her with a smile. “Put it on for me, sweet girl. You’ll look amazing.”
“It’s really pretty but…it looks tight,” she says a little skeptically, and I catch an edge of self-consciousness in her tone.
I tut my tongue off my teeth. “Put it on like a good girl,” I instruct, knowing she won’t be able to disobey that order.
Sure enough, she shuts the door again, and fifteen minutes later, she reappears. Her makeup is done, simple and accentuating her natural beauty, with a blush on her cheeks that I can’t tell whether it’s from makeup or her own flush. Either way, I love it.
She’s right, the style of the dress is tight. I knew that when I ordered it. Then again, it’s in her size so it shouldn’t be uncomfortable to wear. In fact, as I look her up and down, it fits perfectly.
“You look fucking incredible, cupcake,” I tell her, my voice a little rough with lust.
She shuffles on her feet a little, looking down at herself. The dress is a deep purple, simple but pretty, made of soft, clingy fabric that accentuates every delicious curve and swell of my wife’s body. Fuck, she’s the hottest woman alive.