Chapter 2 – Beth McIntyre #2
His free hand comes around to the front of me, and he slowly unties the ribbons holding the front of my nightgown together.
The sheer fabric falls open revealing my larger-than-normal breasts—one of the benefits of breastfeeding.
He cups them in his hands and brushes his thumbs over my sensitive nipples, watching the dusky pink tips tighten into little pebbles.
With a groan, he leans forward and licks my left nipple, sending a tingle straight down to my already heated core. My breasts immediately begin to ache.
“Careful,” I warn. “You’ll make my milk start flowing.”
He just chuckles.
As I lean forward to kiss him, I rub myself along his hard length. He’s fully erect now, long and thick. The broad head of his erection hits my clitoris just right. A deep groan reverberates through his broad chest, and he clamps his hands on my hips as if he’s ready to hurry this process along.
But I’m in no hurry tonight. I want to take this slowly and savor it. I want to prolong our pleasure, both his and mine. I want to make him squirm a bit.
Impatient, he releases my breasts and motions for me to go up onto my knees so he can shove the bedding down off his lap, baring his naked erection.
Reaching between my legs, he slips his index finger between my lips and gathers some of my slick arousal. He groans. “God, you’re so wet.”
And then he gets busy.
My husband knows exactly how to make me come—something he always takes care of first. He locks his gaze on mine and begins a slow, thorough sweep on my clit with the pad of his thumb.
His movements are methodical and unrelenting, and he varies the pressure and speed, just the way I like it.
Soon I’m squirming and my breaths are coming faster.
I moan shamelessly, and a few whimpers escape me.
He’ll stroke me like this until I come undone.
When I start rocking helplessly against his thumb, he smiles.
“You’re a very bad man,” I say, my voice little more than a breathy whisper.
His smile deepens. “No, I’m a good husband. I know how to take care of my wife.”
I rest my hands on his shoulders to steady myself, because already my thighs are quaking, and my belly is fluttering as if it’s full of tiny butterflies.
He brushes my clit, over and over, with his thumb, and soon his finger rims my wet opening, sliding through my arousal until it’s slick enough to slide easily inside me.
This is where his true diabolical nature shines.
He can find my g-spot in seconds, like he has the GPS coordinates programmed in his head.
He begins rubbing me on the inside, and that touch, combined with the pressure on my clitoris, is more than enough to send me over the edge.
Our gazes lock, and as he searches mine, I feel like he’s staring directly into my very soul, reading my every thought.
I’m so close.
“Shane.” I’m not sure if his name is a prayer or a plea.
“I know, baby.” His voice has dropped an octave, sounding low and rough, which only adds to my arousal.
I close my eyes on a whimper.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart. I want to watch you.”
When I do as he asks, the connection between us, the exquisite intimacy, pushes me over the edge.
My pussy tightens on his finger, my muscles clamping down desperately, and pleasure detonates inside me, starting low in my core and blooming upward, zinging along my nerve endings until I’m practically seeing stars.
I can’t help the keening sounds coming out of me, the cries, the breathy whimpers. He leans forward and seals his mouth to mine, drinking in my responses and stealing my shaky breaths. He continues to stroke me through the entirety of my climax, softly, gently, persistently, prolonging my pleasure.
Before he can roll me onto my back, I raise up onto my knees and grasp his erection, holding him where I need him as I lower myself. Gradually, I work myself down onto him. Even though I’m wet and soft after an orgasm, it takes a bit of work on my part. He’s a lot to take in.
Once I’m fully seated, I start moving, slowly at first to give myself time to adjust to the delicious way he fills and stretches me. As I begin to speed up my movements, he grips my ass cheeks and helps me raise and lower myself.
Now he’s the one breathing hard. Now he’s the one making sounds—deep and rough. When he’s close to his own climax, he wraps his arms around me and rolls us so that I’m lying on my back, and he’s looming over me.
He plants one hand on the mattress to brace himself so he doesn’t crush me with his weight while his other hand lifts one of my legs up over his hip, opening me up and making room for himself between my thighs.
I’m mesmerized by the sight of him. His nostrils flare as he tries to catch his breath.
He begins thrusting, slowly at first, then gradually faster and more deeply.
I cling to his rock-hard biceps that bulge beneath his skin.
He clenches his jaws. And then he shudders as he climaxes.
I can feel the heat of his ejaculation as he pulses deep inside me.
Eventually, his thrusts ease, and he withdraws.
“God,” he groans as he lowers his forehead to my shoulder. “Beth.” He kisses me and murmurs My Beth against my lips.
We lie quietly in each other’s arms for a while, until our heart rates return to normal, along with our breathing. I swear I can still feel him throbbing inside me.
After a quick trip to the bathroom to clean up, we return to bed. Shane presses himself to my backside and wraps an arm around my waist, tucking me in close.
“You sure you don’t want to test tonight?” he asks.
His lips are in my hair, and his warm breath sends shivers down my spine.
I smile to myself in the darkness, relishing the notion I might be pregnant. It feels like I’m holding onto a delicious secret. “There’s no rush. If we are, we are. And if we’re not, then we’ll keep working at it.”
He chuckles. “You won’t get any argument from me on that score.” He plants a long kiss on my bare shoulder, gently sucking my skin. He’ll probably leave a mark. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”
“Mmm,” I murmur as sleep begins to overtake me. “I love you, too.”