Page 19 of The Mafioso’s Bride

“No.” I keep her close against me.

“What’s different?”

“I’ve never wanted to keep doing it this much.”

Her gaze fixes on my mouth. “Please keep doing it.”

I sit and bring her onto my lap. She settles astride me, her knees on either side of my hips. “Are you all right here?”

“Yes.” She moves her hips once, testing the position, and presses against my erection. “Your penis is hard.”

A laugh catches in my throat. “You’re sitting on it.”

“That means you’re aroused.”

Christ. “Yes, I’m fucking aroused.”

“Me too. Do you want me to move?”

“If you move, I’m going to want far more than a kiss.”

Her arms tighten around my neck. “I already want more than a kiss.”

The answer is direct and honest. No guile, no pretense with my wife. Nothing for me to interpret or maneuver around.

I run both palms from her waist to her hips, using enough pressure that she tracks every inch. “I’m going to touch your breasts over your sweater.”

“Both of them?”

“Both.” My thumbs press into her waist.

“Yes. Okay. Yes.” Her words emerge breathlessly.

I cup her through the fabric. Her nipples are hard against my palms. She pushes forward, offering herself, and I knead her breasts while I kiss the side of her neck.

“Harder,” she says.

I give her what she asks for. Her hips move against me, and a rough sound leaves her mouth.

“Was that good?” I ask.

“Yes. Do it again.”

I squeeze again, harder this time. Her nails press into my neck. I’ve never been so fucking turned on in my life. Every honest response from her drives me closer to the edge than any polished seduction ever has.

“I’m going to touch your inner thigh over your trousers.” I keep both palms on her waist while I wait. “Nothing between your legs unless you ask.”

Her brow draws in. “Why wouldn’t I ask?”

“You may not want it.”

“I want your hand on my thigh.”

I close my palm around her inner thigh through her trousers. She shudders and leans into me.

“Firm enough?”

“More.”