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She shook her head, whimpered, then nodded.

“Thank you, my sweet.”

He massaged her clitoris with the heel of his hand, then slowed and lightened his touch, letting her rut against his palm. Her hands were on her breasts, muscles shifting, and toes curled as she tried to take what he was withholding. She pinched and teased her nipples and her thighs began to tremble, sweet little sounds of exertion spilling from her lips as she slid through the slickness her body had made for them. She was close.

“That’s enough.”

He didn’t take his hand away. Wanted her to choose obedience.

“Gwen,” he crooned, bending to nip the inside of her thigh. She squeaked, startled, but then her thighs splayed wider and hips lifted off the mattress.

He let out a low growl. then took her bud between finger and thumb, pinching ever so lightly. “When I say stop. You stop.”

Gwen groaned his name, her clitoris pulsing between his fingers. Gaze locked with his, she lay there—panting and utterly vulnerable but perfectly still, waiting for him.

“Beautiful. That’s lovely, Gwen. So good for me.”

Releasing her bud, he gave her the head of his cock, centering the light pressure over her clitoris as he rubbed and circled the heart of her pleasure. She rocked against him, and he praised her softly.

“Mmm, that’s it, Gwen. You’re so sensitive here, where my cock is, aren’t you, so ready to come. I want to watch you spend, my pet, just like this.”

Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed as she worked herself against him. Michael’s gaze slid over her heaving breasts, along the damp skin of her belly as it twitched with effort and eager anticipation. He branded every detail onto his mind, utterly overwhelmed by the sight of her as she surged closer to her release. And when she cried out his name, her head thrown to the side, fiery hair sticking to her temples, the last of his control splintered.

Michael mounted her, gripping her thighs to pull her legs higher around his hips. Her tight heat surrounded him, and he surrendered himself to the pleasure, gave himself entirely over to her, mindless of everything but the need to prolong her orgasm before succumbing to his own.

“That’s it, sweetheart, give me a little more.”

Shifting his angle, he pulled her closer, her near-silent gasp hot against his throat as her channel clenched and squeezed his cock. Lips pressed to her temple, he moaned, thrusting hard and deep as the fading flutters of her climax dragged the release from his body.

CHAPTER 17

Michael

Gwen stood over their bed, looking down at Michael with what he would call fond exasperation, linens in hand. “Are you honestly going to lie there all night, wallowing in your sweat—and heaven knows what else?”

“I know exactly what else,” he said, entirely unrepentant. “But I rather thought it premature to change the linens before we’ve finished abusing them.”

He made a lazy grab for her leg, with the intention of further abusing the linens, but Gwen dodged away.

“I am not lying in that bed as it is,” she giggled. “So unless you plan to add to the current mess on your own, I suggest you haul yourself up and help me.”

“Oh, I’m more than happy to help you.” Michael grinned. “And if your interests lean towards voyeurism…” He gave a lazy stroke of his half hard cock. “That can be arranged.” He butterflied his legs. “There is little I wouldn’t do to please my wife.”

For a long moment, she simply watched him, seemingly entranced. Michael made a mental note to offer this particular show when his wife was feeling genuinely receptive. Suddenly, as if noticing how long she’d been staring, she swatted his foot.

Chuckling, Michael ceased fondling himself and rolled off the bed, landing on his feet. He pulled off the sullied linen and tossed it into the corner, then extended his hand for the fresh one, eyebrows raised.

Gwen handed him a corner of the sheet. unfolding it between them. But instead of tucking his end beneath the mattress, Michael wrapped the linen around her, gave a playful tug, and sent her tumbling onto the bed before following her with his own body.

His lips found hers, hands catching her wrists before she could shove him away. Within seconds, all her protests dissolved. Once every trace of her previous plan had been abandoned and victory was firmly his, Michael swooped down to nip her shoulder before rolling off the bed.

For a moment, Gwen lay there, staring at the ceiling. Then her gaze cut to his. “You.” She followed him off the bed, then grabbed the abandoned sheet. “You don’t even want to make love. You simply want to know that I’ll capitulate.”

Michael’s eyes dropped meaningfully to his hard dick, but she waved the point away, reaching for her banyan. Once the sash was tied, she resumed making the bed.

Michael watched her as she tucked and smoothed, trying to work out if she was actually mad and, if so, how best to handle her ire.

He reached for his own banyan and put it on.