12. Elijah
If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up from it.
Alex’s gentle humming fills my ears as I sip the orange juice she poured me from my seat at the kitchen island. I can’t keep my eyes off her as she floats around the kitchen packing up a picnic basket for a beach day, the blue floral-patterned sundress she asked me to pick out for her twirling around her thighs.
I bite my cheek and think how ridiculous it is that I agreed to a beach day—I hate the sand. And lakes aren’t exactly my favorite thing to swim in, though Alex insists that we’ll be able to see the bottom. But her smile was so bright when she suggested the activity, I couldn’t say no. There was also a promise of a string bikini if I came with her. And isn’t compromise what marriage is all about?
Marriage. I’ve never role played before, but when Alex suggested it, I couldn’t help the excitement I felt, how fucking hard I got at the idea of calling her mine—even if it’s fake. It might be something some people would say I need my head checked for, but I strongly disagree. I may be older, but I’m an open-minded man. Before my marriage with Deb turned monotonous, we were sexually adventurous in our own way. Not like Alex is, but I’m not completely vanilla, either.
I’m more dominant and always have been in the bedroom. Dirty talk is something I enjoy, and it’s been incredibly freeing to let that part of myself come out after it being dormant for so long. I may have also searched the internet for what Alex liked while she got ready.
A breeding kink.
My cock hardens in my shorts, and I let my eyes drift to the space between her legs as she wraps the sandwiches she’s made in parchment paper as if she stepped out of a homemaker magazine.
The idea of my cum still inside her as she works, the fantasy that she could be pregnant with my child is…sexy, to say the least. During my search, I also did a deep dive into a couple of online forums to see how I could make this little role play of ours even more exciting for her. I hope I have the balls to do it when we’re intimate again. And boy, do I plan on being very intimate with her, as many times as she’ll allow me to before the end of tomorrow.
My gut twists at the thought of leaving, but I quickly shake it away. I have limited time with Alex, so I’m going to make the most of it.
“What kind of chips do you like?” she asks as she makes her way to the pantry.
My eyes drift to her ass, and I picture how it looks under her dress. The string bikini I know she has on underneath leaves little to the imagination, just like her thong did yesterday.
She turns her head over her shoulder when I don’t answer and shoots me a knowing look. Busted. I smile lopsidedly. “Any kind. You pick.”
She grabs a bag and holds it up. “Can’t go wrong with plain kettle chips.” Then she walks back over and places them in the basket. When she’s satisfied we have everything we need, she closes the wicker top. “Ready to go get our beach on?”
I chuckle. “If we must.”
Her lip curls, and she moves to stand behind me, looping her arms around my waist. When her lips kiss my shoulder, I lean back into her, absorbing her warmth and soaking in her presence.
“If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to. Or I can go myself and meet you back here later. I don’t mind.”
I grab her arm and shift us so we’re facing each other, our bodies pressed together with her arms locked behind my neck. “What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t go with my wife to the beach?”
A lovely pink flush appears between the valley of her breasts then crawls up her neck till her freckled cheeks are pink.
“I’m going with you, Alex. Plus, if I don’t go, who will rub you down with sunscreen?” I waggle my eyebrows. Her sexy laugh floats around us, and I pull her close, our noses bumping. “I’ll be fine at the beach for a couple of hours. Especially since I’ll be with you.”
Alex’s eyes soften, and she pecks me on the lips. When she goes to pull away, I tug her back, kissing her longer. When my hand starts to find its way up her dress, she darts out of my arms before I can catch her.
“If we don’t leave now, we’ll miss the warmest part of the day.”
I want to say that I’ll keep her warm. Instead, I stand, grabbing my messenger bag at my feet along with the beach bag she filled with towels and sunscreen—plus a little something special I slipped in.
Alex looks at my messenger bag and lifts an eyebrow in question. “I said bring a book or something, not your work bag.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. She sounded so much like Oliver for a second. “It’s not work.” She crosses her arms over her ample chest, and I chuckle at how serious she looks. “It’s not, I promise. It is my computer, but I’m bringing it in case I’m inspired to write.”
The hard line of her lips softens, and then her green eyes shine. “You’re a writer?”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t say that. I write copy for work, but I’ve always wanted to write a book. Another thing I thought I’d try in this new phase of my life.”
“What kind of books do you want to write?”
“Thrillers.”
She pulls the picnic basket off the counter, her smile as bright as the sun. “You know, I can see that.”
Alex starts to walk toward the back door, and I follow dutifully. “Really?”
She studies my face as I pull the beach bag up on my shoulder so I can open the sliding door for her. “You’re an intellectual, seeking adventure in your life, and you’re curious. I can totally see it.”
Her analysis of my personality stuns me for a second. “I suppose you’ve hit the nail on the head.”
She smiles, and I place a hand on the small of her back as we walk into the nice, sunny day. “I won’t lie, I’m not really a thriller person, but I would read the shit out of your book.”
“Because you’re my wife?” I tease.
Her smile shines brighter as she grabs my free hand and kisses my cheek. “Even if I wasn’t”—she gives me a playful wink—“I would because I want to. Because you wrote it.”
I squeeze her hand, that feeling of contentedness settling in my bones as we continue to walk down several flights of wooden stairs to a private beach and a long dock that leads out onto the water. When we get to the bottom, Alex lets go of my hand and removes her sandals, stepping onto the beach with a sigh.
She wiggles her toes in the sand. “Are you coming?”
I take off my own sandals and pick them up before venturing onto the sand. The heat of it burns the bottoms of my feet, but I smile anyway. Alex presses her lips together as she watches me, trying not to laugh.
“You really hate the beach, don’t you?”
I grimace, not wanting her to feel bad that I came down here with her. I really do want to spend time with her. “It’s not that I hate it. I love going to the ocean. But I view it from a nice waterfront restaurant or a patio. Sand gets everywhere. And the ocean has sharks.”
A belly laugh bubbles up and out of her. “Good thing this is a lake, then. And like I said before, you can see the bottom. No big fish will try to eat you here.”
“Thank god,” I say playfully, willing to make fun of myself though my reasons for hating the beach are legitimate and valid.
With another small chuckle under her breath, she starts to walk again, motioning for me to follow her until we reach a spot near the water’s edge.
“Here okay?” she asks. I nod, wanting to say I don’t care where we sit as long as I’m sitting next to her. But that’s an obvious statement considering it’s just the two of us on a private beach that’s blocked off by the trees and a rocky landscape on either side.
“Is this a manmade beach?” I ask as we start to spread out a large beach towel and pull things from our bags.
“I think it’s naturally a pretty rocky beach. But Dad has sand brought in year-round so we can enjoy it instead of always having to sunbathe on the dock,” she says, pulling her dress up and over her head with no warning.
My mouth waters as I take in the vision that is Alex Martin in a green string bikini. Her curvy, dimpled body is nearly naked as she folds her dress and bends to put it in the bag we brought, then she stands to fix the half ponytail she’s put her fiery hair in and adjusts the small squares of fabric that are hardly covering her breasts. Or should I say that are hardly covering her nipples.
“Please tell me,” I say as I pull my own shirt over my head, “that you’ve never worn this suit in front of another man before.”
Alex takes a step toward me and grabs my shirt from my hands. She folds it exactly how I would’ve before placing it in the bag alongside her dress.
“Of course not, baby. I bought this for you,” she says, a grin tugging at her pink-painted lips.
Now, logically I know she didn’t buy the suit for me. But her words hit me in the gut nonetheless. The idea that, if Alex and I were together, she would have bought something like this with me in mind makes me not only very happy but hard as a rock.
Her eyes shift to the now clear bulge in my swim trunks before they trail up and down my body.
“Need help with your…sunscreen?” she asks.
I release a breathy laugh. “I would love that.”
She grabs the SPF fifty she told me she has to have or she’ll burn and squirts some of it in her hand, motioning for me to turn around. I do as she asks, and she steps behind me.
“This may be a little cold,” she warns before she places her hands on my shoulders. I shiver at the cool lotion touching my skin but quickly warm up as Alex’s hands travel down my body. I don’t miss the way she pays special attention to the muscles of my back and the slopes of my shoulders.
“Has anyone ever called you a silver fox before?” she asks, her voice a tad deeper than usual.
“Not to my face,” I say honestly, though I have heard myself called that before, most recently at a hotel in New York when I was on business.
Alex squirts more lotion into her hands, her slippery fingers trailing lower and lower until she’s thumbing the elastic of my trunks. I suck in a breath as her hands easily dip inside, cupping my ass and squeezing. My cock that won’t stop being hard around her gets harder.
“I don’t think the sun reaches inside my shorts,” I tease.
“Oh, so you want me to stop?” she asks, her lips near my ear as she presses her breasts into my back.
“I didn’t say that.”
She hums as she massages the muscles of my glutes, and a small groan leaves my parted lips when she starts to slide her hands around my hips.
Alex places her chin on my shoulder and nibbles at my ear. “How do you feel about a little public indecency?”
I groan as her soft hand grips my erection, and my head turns to meet hers. While I know the beach is private, that doesn’t mean we don’t run the risk of being seen. The idea of a boater looking on to find me fucking Alex into the sand ignites a primal need to claim her, to show the world who she belongs to. I inhale, trying to calm myself so I don’t turn into a barbarian.
“I like a little risk,” I manage to say.
With a satisfied noise, Alex presses a short kiss to my lips and pumps my cock through my shorts.
“You know,” she says, fisting me harder. “I planned to spend a few hours out here before I had you again.” She runs her thumb over the head of my erection, and I hiss. “But I need you inside me, Elijah. I feel empty without your cum filling me up.”
Her dirty words hit me hard, and if I hadn’t come already this morning, I would’ve shot my load into my shorts. I grab Alex’s wrist to stop her motions. Her eyes grow wide as I pull her hand out from under the elastic and tug her to me so we’re facing each other.
I look down at her thumb, glistening with my pre-cum, and I do something I know she’ll enjoy. “Open your mouth, and stick your tongue out,” I command her.
Her eyes widen, but she does it, her pink tongue darting out. “Suck my cum from your finger, Alex. Show me you won’t waste a single drop.”
She shifts, her thighs rubbing together. I release her wrist, and she doesn’t hesitate to lick the white drop from her finger. A moan reverberates through her as she sucks it off.
“Now, lay on the towel face down, my dirty wife. I’ve got a surprise for you.”