Page 95 of Desperate Measures
“Fuck, tell me how it feels. How wet are you?”
He ripped his shirt, pushing down his pants only for them to get stuck. I cracked a smile as he cursed, yanking them back up and struggling with his belt buckle.
“I’m so wet. It feels so good, Husband.”
“Are you close?” he growled, his voice so deep.
I nodded, unable to form words. My chest rose and fell. I was panting with it.
I added a third finger, pumping in and out of my pussy while I squeezed one nipple with the other hand, twisting it.
“God, I need to come,” I moaned, then I felt Liam’s hands pushing mine off.
“I got you, Sweetheart. I’ll make you come all over me,” he growled, leaning down and dropping a hot, heavy, open-mouthed kiss right on my pussy.
“Liam!”
Chapter 40-Liam
My wife is so fucking hot, I’m about to blow my load in my fucking underwear just from watching her touch herself.
The emotions that held me captive for the entire shithole of a day dissolved under the power of what I felt watching her bare herself to me.
It was always me who initiated our passionate interludes. This was the first time my wife had done anything like this.
And I fucking loved it.
I loved her.
“God, I need to come,” she groaned.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to touch her.
Fuck these fucking clothes.
I tore at them, breaking the zipper of my slacks just to get them off.
“I got you, Sweetheart. I’ll make you come all over me,” I growled, falling face first into her hot cunt.
“Liam!” she shouted my name as she started to convulse.
I moaned, drinking her essence from the source, and love, the unconditional kind, filled me. Desire—ever-growing—that, too. And next came a deeply possessive pride that she belonged to me. That I was her one and only. That I would do anything for her.
I pushed up on my hands, fitting my thick cock to her entrance, but not entering her just yet. Using my thighs to hold her legs even wider, I looked down at her gorgeous, soft body beneath mine.
I knew in my heart I would not be satisfied until I was sure that when I lowered myself, I would touch every inch of her possible. That much was clear to me.
It was a goddamn biological imperative.
“Are you ready for me?”
“Yes. Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please Husband. I need you,” she said, and that plea broke me wide open.
How could I deny her when I needed her just as badly?