CHAPTER 34 Ainsley Bradley
I’m a Slut
We went to bed last night after all the oral sex. He has to be at his practice facility this morning by eight, so I decided to get up early to spend a little time with him before he has to go.
“There’s Daddy Dex,” I say when he walks into the kitchen while I’m making him breakfast. It’s a little after seven, and I’m still getting out the supplies to make a nice, hearty breakfast. The baby is still asleep, so I don’t know why those words come out of my mouth.
Apparently he likes them.
He stalks across the kitchen toward me, and his voice is low and intimidating when he asks, “Are you on birth control?”
I shake my head. “Why?”
“Because I want to fuck my wife in my kitchen, and I don’t have a condom on me. Let’s get it sorted.”
My heart thunders at his words. Hell yeah, I’ll take care of it. Today, if I can.
“Call me that again,” he says.
I clear my throat, and my voice is tentative when I say, “Good morning, Daddy Dex.”
“Get your ass in that bedroom, get naked, and wait for me on the bed so I can treat you like the good little slut you are for me.”
Oh my God. Nobody has ever spoken to me like that before, but suddenly it’s all I want. I want to be his good little slut. He likes when I call him Daddy Dex? Well, I like when he calls me his little slut.
Who would ever have thought that would sound so hot? It should sound degrading. But we both know I don’t sleep around, and he used a very important prepositional phrase in that sentence: for me.
I’m a slut for him. Nobody else. And I prove that when I rush to the bedroom and strip off my clothes as requested.
I shiver as the chill in the air makes my nipples harden. I rub my fingertip along the peaks, and it sends a shot of need straight through me. I want his rough hands on my breasts again. I want them all over my body, touching and caressing and giving me everything I need.
I’m so wet I feel like I’m dripping. I’m ready. I’m needy. I’m waiting.
In fact, I feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime for him to come in when he finally does.
“There’s my good girl,” he says, and his lips curl into a smile as he stares down at me. Rather than take his time since we both know we don’t have much, he grabs a condom from his nightstand, yanks his cock over his athletic shorts, and rolls it on.
He moves toward me, and he runs his hand along my breasts and across each of my nipples. “Your tits are perfection,” he murmurs, and his hand dips along my torso and down toward my hip. He slips a finger in me, and he hisses at the feel of that dripping wet pussy just waiting for him.
“Fucking hell, Ainsley. This is the wettest pussy I’ve ever felt.”
“It’s what you do to me,” I murmur.
He pulls his fingers out of me and moves quickly so he’s hovering over me, but he doesn’t slide inside me just yet.
Instead, he flips us so I’m on top of him.
He helps me lift up a little, and then he aligns his cock with my body and pushes in.
My body stretches for him, as if my pussy seems to remember this intruder and is happy to let him in again. Holy hell, I’m happy, too.
I sit down on him, and God, that angle feels like pure heaven. I cry out at how good it feels, and he sets his hands under my ass to move my body over his.
Once I get the feel of the motion down, I set my hands on his chest and really start to move.
I’m gyrating wildly over him, moving in ways I had no idea I even could.
His eyes are hooded and locked on mine as we do this for only the second time.
His fingertips inch over on my ass until I’m almost certain he’s going to push a finger in, but he doesn’t.
For now, anyway. It’s not something we’ve talked about yet, but I also don’t know if that’s something you bring up over dinner.
Can I stick my finger in your ass next time we’re doing it? Oh, and could you pass the green beans?
I sort of want him to do it, though. Every experience with him feels new to me, and if that’s something he’s into, then I want to try it.
I want to try it all.
With him.
He continues lifting me over him, and eventually he lets go since he can see I’ve found my rhythm here.
He reaches down between us with one of his hands and he rubs my clit, and he bands an arm around my waist to pull me down over him.
I have to stretch a little, but he’s able to shift to get my nipple in his mouth, and he sucks on it as I continue to gyrate over him.
There are too many sensations plowing into me at once. My body doesn’t seem to know how to handle all of it as I tip over the edge.
I claw at his chest as I try to hold on through the roaring wave that crashes over me.
I cry out his name with a series of moans that carry me through the crest of the wave.
My body pulses over his, pulse after powerful pulse, and a growl rips from his chest as he starts to come, too.
He keeps sucking on my nipple as he rides the wave, his body contracting beneath mine as my own climax starts to pull away from me and his reaches its peak.
He moves his hand that was on my clit to grab my other breast, and he squeezes it as he comes—hard—into me.
“Fuck, Ains,” he grunts as he finishes, and then he lets go of his grip on my breast as he relaxes back. I collapse over him, and he tosses one arm around me, keeping me in place as I rest on his chest, our bodies still connected in this intense, perfect way.
And speaking of perfect, it’s damn near perfect timing as we hear the first signs that the baby down the hall is waking up.
I push off of him, and I feel the intense loss as his cock drops out of me.
I move off the bed to start gathering my clothes, and I head to the bathroom to use it and get dressed before I go get the baby.
When I’m out of the bathroom, though, Dex is sitting on the bed, fully dressed and waiting for me.
“Come here,” he demands quietly, and I walk over. He pulls me down on his lap, and I straddle his waist as I sit on him. He reaches up and takes my face between his palms, and he kisses me gently. “I just wanted to say that I think I’m past the falling stage. I love you.”
My eyes soften as they meet his, and I see all the sincerity in them that I need to see to know that this is real. “I love you too, Dex.”
They’re not the words I was expecting to hear—or to say—this morning, but somehow they’re perfect.
Somehow he is perfect. And when I ran out of that wedding when Jordan told me he didn’t, I had no idea that I was running right into what would turn into this.