“Yes,” she whispers. Her thighs close tighter around my hand.
My cock throbs at her answer. “You do?”
Her eyes meet mine, darkened with lust. “All the time.”
Fuck, does she even know how hot that is? Does she have any idea how much it turns me on to know my wife lies in the bedroom across the hall, dreaming about my hands on her?
Maura shudders as I bring my fingers to her clit, circling it purposefully. “Do you—” she gasps. “Do you dream about me?”
I shake my head. “I don’t dream.”
Hurt flashes across her face, and I curse myself. Of course, she’d want to hear I dream about her, too. I cradle her face in my hand.
“I may not dream, but I fantasize about you,” I swear. “All the fucking time. When I’m at my desk, I can’t stop imagining you. Worshiping you and defiling you. Fuck, if you knew the things I think about when you traipse around in your little pajama shorts, you’d never come back to the apartment again.”
Maura’s eyes flit shut. Her legs tremble, and I recognize the strained expression she gets right before she comes.
Leaning against her ear, I whisper, “I’m going to do it all, wife. I’m going to live out every fucking fantasy you let me.”
My words drag her over the edge, and she whines my name as she comes against my fingers. I can’t stop the satisfied grin that spreads across my face.
I could have this every morning.
The thought stops me in my tracks. We might be on vacation, but there’s no reason to stop sleeping together. There’s nothing stopping me from tugging Maura back into my bed after a baby-making appointment, insisting she sleep curled up against me. I doubt she'd decline. Then I could wake her in the mornings with my fingers or my tongue.
I want that. I want that too goddamn much, but I’m smart enough to know I can’t have it. Maura doesn’t want to be my wife, not in the traditional way. Friendship and companionship is the most I can hope for—she’s made that clear enough.
So have I.
I shove the wanting to the back of my mind and focus on what I can have. My wife is blinking up at me with a satisfied smile, waiting for me to take her.
After I shove off my pants, I move to hover over her, carefully bracing my weight on my arms. I’m strangely aware of how easy it would be to crush her under my weight. Lining up my cock, I sink slowly into her molten heat.
“Fuck, Maura,” I groan. “You take my cock so goddamn well. It’s like you were made for this.”
Her hands crawl up my back. “Sometimes, I think I might be,” she confesses.
I fuck into her with long, languid strokes, feeling no need to bury myself all the way. It’s enough to have my wife’s legs wrapped around my waist, her caramel eyes warm on mine, the Grecian sun turning her pale skin a pearly gold.
She slides her own hand down to her clit, taking her pleasure. I soak in the sight of her pretty lips parted in want. She takes a shuddering gasp as I hit the right spot inside her, and my balls tighten. The second she comes, she’s going to take me with her. The pleasure curling up my spine is too much to bear for much longer.
Maura takes a sharp breath, and I duck my head to swallow her cries as her orgasm sweeps over her. Her pussy milks out my own orgasm, and I shudder as I spill every drop deep inside her.
The housekeeper has laidout an absurd spread of pastries, eggs, sausages, and fruit juices on the villa terrace. Maura nibbles on some kind of twisted bread as she gazes at the whitewashed buildings and the blue sea on the horizon. I can practically see her brain processing it all, dividing it into colors and textures, transforming it into a painting in her studio.
I pull out my phone. Work emails might be able to wait, but I’ve been ignoring the group chat with the guys, and if I don’t answer soon, they might send out a search party. Not a metaphorical one, either. Nate has been known to send local security operatives to check on us all if we’re MIA without an explanation.
Quickly, I discover that I’m not the only one out of town.
Luke
Where is everyone? I’m bored and lonely
Nate
Security conference in Quebec.
Ryan
