He’s normally so controlled, so calculated with everything he does. Especially sex. His movements are precise. Well-orchestrated. Practiced. And I love that side of him. But when he’s chaotic like this, when he can’t seem to settle himself enough to remove clothing properly, when he appears human, faulted like the rest of us, this is the side of Reese which drives me insane.
“I don’t think I’ve ever needed to be inside you so badly before. I’m fucking shaking,” he pants as he drags his rigid cock up my leg. He puts a hand on each of my thighs, digs his fingers into my skin, and shreds my stockings away from my body. My garter and panties are removed, tossed off the bed and disregarded like everything else that isn’t him and me in this moment. His hands anchor into the skin of my hips as he lifts them off the mattress and, in the same motion, drives into me.
“Reese,” I cry out, digging my nails into his shoulders.
He pushes my knees against my chest, lunging so hard into me my teeth chatter. “You’re finally mine. I’ve waited so long for this.”
I nod through a moan, closing my eyes and silently chanting. Yes. Yes. Yes.
His hands massage my breasts as his thrusts become frenzied. Fingers pinch my nipples and my eyes flash open when I feel the slide of his tongue over one hardened peak.
I thread my fingers into his hair, fisting it when he bites down. “Oh, God,” I cry as he buries his face between my breasts.
“Say it, Dylan.” He lifts his head, capturing my mouth and stealing the words from me. “Beg me like you do.”
I don’t hesitate. I never will. “Please, Reese,” I say against his lips, hearing him react with a soft moan. “I need you. Please.”
His arms brace himself on either side of me, flexed and fully extended as he begins thrusting forward in a slow, steady rhythm. We keep our eyes on each other, never breaking contact. He runs his hands over every inch of me. His lips follow. Then his tongue. He drags his cock on my skin each time he pulls out, the heaviness of it slicked with my desire for him. He gives me his words, sweet and filthy, as he moves in me. He’s wild one minute and tender the next, sliding between my tits while he tells me how hot my tight, little * is and then whispering against my ear how he’ll need me forever while he finger-fucks me. I’m clawing at his skin, wanting to somehow embed myself beneath his surface as he brings me to orgasm over and over, denying himself his own release to focus on me. He grinds into me from behind, his deft fingers rooting themselves into my hip bones as he bottoms out with punishing thrusts. My body breaks, bowing in submission as a wave of pleasure surges through me. He tastes the skin of my neck. My breasts. Between my legs. My fingers tangle in his mess of hair as my body arches off the bed into another rolling climax. I don’t think I can take anymore as he crawls up my body, chin and lips wet, prowling over me like a lion.
I grab his face, making our foreheads touch as he slides his cock between my legs.
He enters me, brushes against my mouth with his, and says, “Mine.”
“Yes.”
“My wife.” He lunges forward, then back.
“Yes.” My response is softer, barely above a whisper, and I feel his body tense against mine. Ready to break.
“Dylan.” My name escapes his lips the moment he loses all control. Sweat drips from his forehead to my chest before he collapses on top of me, sealing our bodies together.
And we stay like that, long after our breathing steadies.
Long after the dull ache of his hipbone against mine becomes familiar.
Reese gives me the contact we both need. The intimacy we both crave.
His life.
His love.
He gives me everything.
And I know he always will.
I can’t concentrate.
I haven’t been able to concentrate for over a week.
I know I’m supposed to be contributing to this meeting, but all my attention is on the phone weighing down my pocket. And the conference room doors. Any second now, any fucking second I could get the call.