She saw Conrad’s lips twitch.
“I’ll always find you, little nymph.” He crooked a finger at her. “Come here.”
She tried to escape (or pretended to, at any rate). It was great fun darting around the tree, keeping just out of Conrad’s reach. By the time she let him capture her, she was breathless and barely holding back her mirth.
“We’ll see who has the last laugh,” Conrad said.
His sternness made her giggle even as he backed her into the tree. She wore a plain chemise—there was no point in wearing anything more extravagant, given her husband’s troglodytic tendencies when it came to her clothing. When Conrad trapped her against the trunk, she trembled at the sensation of being sandwiched between the trunk and his hard length.
“You’re a naughty little tease,” he admonished. “Making me chase you through the garden.”
She batted her eyelashes. “What will you do now that you have me?”
His gaze was smoldering. “Whatever I want.”
Never one to disappoint, he pinned her wrists above her head with one big hand. With the other, he grabbed the neckline of her chemise and tore the garment in half. As he raked a hot glance over her naked form, her nipples budded, her thighs squeezing together instinctively. He touched her with a casual propriety that never failed to stir her. Her breath quickened as he caressed the line of her throat, pressing slightly into the hollow at the base. When he palmed her breast, pinching her nipple between finger and thumb, she couldn’t hold back a whimper.
“I think you enjoy the chase as much as I do,” he said huskily. “I think you are wet, wanton, and ready to fuck.”
Oh my stars. Her knees trembled at her husband’s filthy language. At the filthy intent in his eyes. However, she’d discovered that the game was even more thrilling when prolonged.
“Unhand me, you beast,” she said breathily.
“If I am wrong, I will eat my words.”
With a knowing smirk, he reached between her thighs, and she had to bite back a moan as he took his time fingering her slick crease.
“On second thought,” he murmured. “You should be the one to eat her words.”
He held up his index and middle fingers. She blushed, seeing the glistening abundance of her arousal. When he pressed his fingers against her lips, she went hot all over.
“Open for me, love,” he said.
He thrust inside, and the depravity of tasting her own wanton flavor made her squirm against the tree. Conrad’s plunging fingers reminded her of the other way he used her mouth and the skills she’d learned. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucked on his invading thickness.
“That’s it.” Approval heated his gaze. “Suck my fingers like you would my cock. Show me how badly you want to be fucked.”
Lost in the carnal fantasy, she obeyed, swirling her tongue around his digits. She applied suction, drawing on him, the wet, lascivious sounds making his chest heave. Soon she needed to be filled elsewhere, and her mate’s ravenous expression told her she wouldn’t have to wait long. Sure enough, he released her and unfastened his trousers. Her heart thumped as his thick, meaty shaft slapped into his palm.
In an easy movement, he lifted her against the trunk.
“This is all for you,” he said in guttural tones. “Take me, Gigi.”
He impaled her on his cock.
She moaned at the depth of his penetration, the totality of it. He filled her until there was no room for breath, thought, or anything but the molten craving that forged them as one. He held her aloft against the oak, bringing her down on his massive pole while simultaneously thrusting upward. Her senses overwhelmed, she clung to his flexing shoulders, circling his hard hips with her legs, reveling in his power and stamina. Several strokes later, she came in a flood of bliss.
“Just so,” he groaned. “I love it when you gush around my prick.”
A heartbeat later, he maneuvered her onto the grass on all fours. He entered her from behind, grunting as her pussy continued to spasm around him. Gripping her hips, he pounded into her, the heavy slap of his thighs setting off fresh quivers. Panting, she had the vague thought that this degree of wanting, of passion for another, shouldn’t be possible, but her husband had taught her to expect the unexpected. His strong, relentless drilling brought her pleasure to a crest. As she teetered on the edge, he pressed a wet finger against her secret pucker and pushed.
The incursion, illicit and exquisite, made her gasp and twist her head to look at him.
“I love you,” he said fiercely. “My nymph, my duchess, my every fantasy come to life.”
Her reply was lost as he screwed his finger deeper, the twin sensations of fullness pushing her over. Even as she tumbled into ecstasy, she kept her gaze on his. His lap slammed against her bottom again and again until he bellowed, inundating her with his hot essence. Afterward, he gathered her into his arms, and they floated on a sea of bliss, anchored body and soul, their hearts beating as one.
Steeped in contentment, Gigi gazed at the starry sky. Conrad placed a hand on the small swell of her belly, his touch gentle and possessive.
