"Not yet." I step back, and she whimpers at the loss of contact. "Get on the bed. On your back. Legs spread. I want to see what's mine."
She practically runs to the bed, and I take my time undressing, letting her watch. Jacket first, then tie. I fold them carefully over the back of a chair, making her wait. Shirt next, one button at a time. Her eyes track every movement, hunger written across her face.
My cock is rock hard, pressing against my abdomen when I finally strip off my trousers and boxer briefs. Her eyes lock onto it, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips.
"Touch yourself," I order, walking slowly toward the bed. "Show me how much you missed my cock."
Her hand slides between her legs, and she moans as her fingers find her clit. The sound shoots straight through me. I stroke myself slowly, watching my wife pleasure herself, watching her back arch off the bed, watching her free hand come up to cup her breast through the lace.
"That's it, love. Get yourself nice and wet for me. But you don't come. Not until I'm buried inside you. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir," she gasps, her hips rocking against her hand.
"Good girl."
The praise makes her moan, makes her fingers move faster. She's close. I can see it in the flush spreading across her chest, in the way her thighs tremble.
"Stop."
Her hand freezes. Her eyes fly open, dark and desperate.
"Fitz, please," she gasps.
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me. I need you. I need—" Her words cut off in a moan as I grab her ankle, yanking her down the bed until she's at the edge.
I'm done waiting. I cover her body with mine, capturing both her wrists in one hand and pinning them above her head. My cock finds her entrance, and I pause, making her wait, making her beg with her eyes.
"Who do you belong to, Jordan?"
"You," she whispers. "Only you."
"Damn straight."
I drive into her in one hard thrust, and she screams my name. Tight. Wet. Mine. I set a brutal pace, fucking her into the mattress, and she takes it all, her pussy clenching around my cock, her nails scoring my back when I release her wrists to brace myself above her.
"Look at me," I growl, and her eyes lock onto mine. Dark and drowning and absolutely wrecked. "That's it. Let me see you. Let me see my wife coming apart on my cock."
"Fitz, I can't—I need?—"
"Come for me," I growl against her ear. "Come on my cock, wife."
She shatters, her whole body convulsing, and I follow her over the edge, spending myself deep inside her with a roar that echoes off the stone walls.
We lie tangled together, both breathing hard, and I stroke her hair back from her face. Sweat-dampened. Beautiful. Mine.
"Welcome to our holiday, sweetheart."
She laughs, the sound slightly hysterical. "If this is relaxation, I might not survive the week."
"Oh, you'll survive." I roll onto my back, pulling her onto my chest. Her head fits perfectly in the hollow of my shoulder. Her hand rests over my heart. "You always do."
Through the window, snow begins to fall, fat flakes drifting past the glass. In the distance, headlights cut through the dark, winding up the mountain road.
2
JJ
