Page 24 of Hotwife
Gasping, I held tight to his palm. “It’s beautiful,” I breathed. But those words seemed so shallow. So far and removed from what I was actually seeing. Mountains jutted up all around us and as far as the eye could see. Covered in thick green, jagged trees and sprawling as far as the eye could see.
Desmond pointed into the distance. “Mount Townsend is right there. We’re in the middle of the Olympic Mountains up here. My secret spot.”
“Thank you for sharing it with me,” was all I could muster as I stared over the vast beauty in the mountains. The rock beneath my feet felt cold and solid. The feel of it vibrated into my shins and seeped into my bones. Like the mountains were sharing some of their magic with me. The air was crisp and pure and smelled like a secret forest. The warm rays of the sun danced on my skin between wisps of breeze twirling my hair. I could feel the Vitamin D seeping into my pores and it was already lifting my mood. Fresh from the source Vitamin D was a hot commodity in the rainiest state in the United States.
When I glanced over, Desmond was gazing down at me with a hard expression. He was so angry, but why? Maybe my company really was that annoying.
Not wanting to ruin the moment with questions, I let go of his hand and walked a few steps away from the ledge and towards the tree line where we dropped the packs. Surely he had a granola bar or two stashed away. “Bring me my camera bag on your way back over here,” his voice ordered from somewhere behind me.
I rolled my eyes. A “please” wouldn’t go amiss. “Sir, yes, sir,” I muttered under my breath.
It happened so fast I worried for the briefest moment that I was being attacked by a bear. Strong arms lifted me from where I was kneeling, spun me around, and pressed my back to a giant, moss covered spruce. My heart jumped into my throat and I gasped, Desmond’s hands tight around my shoulders. He pressed his body to mine, completely pinning me in.
“Does your husband mistreat you?” The question came out more like a growl. His breath so close I could feel it. My mouth ached to taste his lips, though I wasn’t allowed to. Even though my entire body was tensing in some sort of bizarre, tantalizing fear. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but he was posturing like he could, and for some wicked reason, that sent a flutter straight to my core.
My head shook in hazy confusion. “No, Cedric is amazing.”
“Then what the fuck is your game, Queen? You sending out pictures of your perfect tits to men just to fuck with them? You enjoy driving me crazy?”
“What? No!”
“Is that what you did to that guy on the street? You fucked him up like you’re trying to do to me? Be straight with me. Why are you messing around on your husband?”
“I’m not-” I started, wriggling under his firm hold.
“Yeah, Ruby? Because it sure looks like it. And I’m not even saying I care, Dorthea. I never claimed to be a good man. I knew you were married when I came onto you in the gym. I want you, but I need to know you can handle it.”
My breath caught in my chest. He wanted me, too?
“We have an arrangement,” I whispered. “I’m allowed to sleep with other men.”
“Why? Why the hell would any man want to share you?” His breathing went ragged for the first time during our hike. The sound of it, hot and steady, pooled between my thighs and I ached to buck my hips forward into him.
A deep breath flooded my lungs in an attempt to clear my racing thoughts. “He can’t… He just can’t.” I looked down. Feeling the shame, the embarrassment of having a husband who could no longer give me what I needed.
Desmond pulled back slightly, taking in my features, searching for any hint of deception. He must have decided I was being truthful because he gave a short nod. “Okay, then.”
“Okay then, what?”
“This-” His lips met mine in a crash of ecstasy. A moan escaped my throat at the severity of the way he pushed his body flush to mine. His soft lips parted mine and his tongue slipped into my mouth, coaxing mine to tango. He tasted like he smelled. Like pure, masculine danger. The rules my husband had set charged through my mind. Don’t use your real name. Broken. Don’t kiss on the mouth. Broken. This was wrong, in some sort of way, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. Like fire in human form, this man burned through my soul and body within just two weeks of knowing him. I wanted more, no, I needed more. Like being trapped underwater and coming up for air. I had to breathe this man in.
I’d spent over a year caging my desires. Even with the men I dated since Cedric. It was all just going through the motions. But not now, not with Desmond. My hands fought between our torsos and grabbed his belt, pulling on the leather and undoing his pants with frantic movements. Answering my call, Des tossed off his jacket before doing the same with mine. His jeans dropped to the ground as his rough hands reached under my shirt. I gasped as he slowed, his tough palms meeting my soft stomach and inching up my ribs. Leaning forward, he nipped my earlobe as his hands cupped my breasts. A small whimper escaped me as his thumb and forefingers began twirling my nipples.
“Des, please,” I whined.
His eyes met mine and a dark smirk played on his lips. “Can’t a man take his time?”
“No,” I answered. He chuckled darkly and pulled up on the sides of my shirt. Lifting my arms, he peeled it away.
“Fuck me,” he said in awe, taking me in. My bare back met the soft moss of the tree trunk. “You drove me crazy with that fucking text last night.”
“Good,” I replied.
With a soft growl, he looped his long fingers into my jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down.
“Fuck, no bra and no panties either?” he remarked, his gaze hot on my hips.
“You told me no lace or frills,” I replied, grinning mischievously.