“Mm-hmm.” My fingers dug into her hips, forcing her to rock over me faster than before.
“Oh God,” she panted. “That feels so good.”
A grunt was my only response. I was barely hanging onto my control by a thread.
Her mouth crashed down on mine, her tongue pushing inside, battling hungrily with mine. Nails dug into the flesh of my shoulders, and Rory’s body trembled in my hold before seizing, a cry of completion torn from her throat. Fully clothed, she collapsed against my chest, each breath sounding like a satisfied purr in my ear.
When she recovered enough to sit upright, the lightest brush of her thigh against my throbbing cock caused me to wince.
Eyes widening, she lifted off my lap to peek down at the erection trapped behind my fly. “You didn’t come,” Rory stated the obvious.
“It’s okay.” While my words said one thing, my strained voice said another. I was downright desperate for a release right about now, even if my fist was a poor substitute for the bliss that came from sinking balls deep inside a woman.
“Here, let me help.” Dropping to the floor between my spread thighs, she reached for my belt buckle and licked her kiss-swollen lips.
For a second, I almost succumbed to the temptation to let her blow me, but my mission came before my need to get off. Once I took care of business, I would allow myself the reward of coming inside her as many times as I was able until my seed took root. And maybe even a few more times after that if the mood struck,which it probably would because seven years was far too long for a virile Bellini man to remain celibate.
Grabbing my glasses from where they lay discarded beside me on the couch, I slid them onto my face before peeling Rory’s hand away from my fly. Then I leaned forward, dropping my forehead to hers.
“We agreed to take things slow,” I reminded her.
She let out a whine. “I haven’t felt this alive in so long.”
Stroking her cheek, I hummed. “I know. But I don’t want to mess this up with you, Ro.”
With a huff, Rory pulled back. “Why do you have to be such a gentleman?”
I bit down on my tongue to stifle a laugh. I was the absolute furthest thing from a gentleman, but it was nice to know she’d bought into the act. After all, that was pivotal to my success.
“Do you mind if I use the bathroom to freshen up?” I adjusted my painfully stiff shaft.
“Sure, go ahead.” She rose to her feet, moving toward the kitchenette. “I’ll pour us another glass of wine to go with dessert.”
“Sounds great,” I called over my shoulder before shutting the bathroom door.
Flicking the lock, I turned on the faucet to drown out the sound of my snooping. Then I opened every drawer, one by one, searching for two very specific items—condoms and birth control pills.
Once I located them, I went to work, poking holes through the foil packets of the prophylactics with a needle before replacing them in the box. Then, I swapped the blister pack of her birth control with an identical-looking set that contained fertility medication. A side effect was an increased chance of multiples, but we ran that risk anyway because my father had been a twin.
After ensuring I popped out the same pills missing from the original packet and let them wash down the sink, I put all the items back in the same place as where I’d found them. Turning off the water, I ran my hands through my hair before rejoining Ro for dessert.
It was impossible to wipe the smile from my face as, together, we ate our slices of turtle cheesecake and finished watching the movie we’d abandoned during our make-out session.
The trap was set, and I was closer than ever to the moment when I collected on the debt my wife owed me.
Topless, with the cups of her bra tugged down, Rory writhed beneath me. Fingers threaded through my long hair tugged at the strands as I teased a pebbled nipple with my tongue.
“Mmm, John. I need more.” She spoke against the top of my head.
I kissed a path between the valley of her breasts. “Tell me what you need.”
“You,” Rory panted. “It’s been over a month. I’m tired of going slow.”
I smiled against her skin, a surge of triumph coursing through my veins, though I schooled my features before peeking up at my wife. Her copper hair was fanned around her head like a halo, her blue eyes were bright with lust, and her cheeks were flushed a bright pink.
“Ro,” I sighed. “There’s no need to rush this.”
She shimmied out from beneath me with a huff, working frantically on the fly of her jeans before shoving the denim down her thighs. Next, her lace panties were wrenched off, and thescent of her arousal hit me square in the face, forcing my eyes to slide shut as I groaned.
