No one has ever offered to remove my anal plug. The idea of it feels incredibly intimate.
Yet I find myself nodding and tilting my hips in his direction.
Cautiously, he removes it, then tosses the plug to the end of the mattress.
“Look at it gaping, greedy for me to fuck it.”
My body shudders with need, even as I drop back to the mattress, completely spent.
He angles in and kisses the place where my neck meets my shoulder. Then, with a nip to my collarbone, he rises. “Next time.”
He clamps his hands around my ankles and drags me to the edge of the bed, making me gasp, then giggle with delight, and throws me over his shoulder with ease.
Pivoting toward the bathroom, he smacks my ass. “Let me draw you a bath.”
27
Ezra
“YOU LOOKridiculous with my scrunchie in your hair.”
“Liar.” I pinch her nipple. “You’re just jealous because it looks better on me.”
Millie is wedged between my bent legs in the bath, her back resting against my chest and her head nestled into the crook of my neck. The tops of her breasts peek out of the suds, making my dick harden again.
“How do you feel?” I wasn’t my roughest, but I wasn’t gentle either.
“Like I could sleep till next Tuesday,” she sighs, sinking deeper into me.
With her painted toes, she plays with the faucet. Besides the sound of water dripping, we’re silent.
Just when I think she’s drifted off in my arms, she speaks. “Can I tell you something?”
My stomach flips with nerves, but I ignore the sensation. “Of course.”
“When I heard you in the bathroom earlier, before I realized it wasmeon the app, I thought you were with Val’s daughter.”
“Jade?” I reel back. “She’s married with five kids.”
“Five?” She twists in my arms, sloshing water over the side of the tub. “What kind of psychopath is she?”
I laugh. “What? You don’t want children?”
“I didn’t say that. Just…five?”
The primal urge to press her on her thoughts about children runs rampant in my veins. After coming on her stomach, I can’t help but picture it swollen with my child. What the fuck is that about?
My therapist loves to sayfake it till you make it. Have I inadvertently been doing that? Is our fake marriage starting to feel real? Does Millie want it to be?
Question after question swirls in my mind. I’m only snapped out of the spiral when she leans her head back again and lets out an exasperated noise.
“What are we doing?”
My stomach tightens with apprehension. “What do you mean?”
“That.” She hikes a thumb toward the door to the bedroom. “This.” Her hand hooks around the back of my neck. “We just told Kane we’re not togeth?—”
“I realize that.” I wrap my arms around her so her teardrop breasts rest on my forearms and drop my chin to her shoulder. “What do you want?”
