“Yep,” I answered.
Zip down, I tugged up my dress and it was gone.
Strapless lacy black bra, high cut lacy black panties, and heels.
Ren’s eyes didn’t leave my body when his mouth noted, “You’re gonna do that twice tonight, baby.”
Righteous.
I grinned at my husband.
My husband lunged at me.
* * * * *
“Ren,” I breathed.
I was on my back in our bed, Ren over me, my legs spread, knees high. He had my hands held in his at the sides of my head, pressed into the pillow, our fingers laced, but he’d angled up so he could watch as he thrust into me.
But when I spoke his name, his eyes came to mine.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered.
I complied.
He kept being the kind of bossy I didn’t mind (at all). “Move with me, baby.”
My hips complied.
“Fuck yeah,” he growled, going faster and doing it deep. “That’s it.”
It definitely was.
“Dig in, Ally.”
I dug the heels of my sandals in, gaining purchase to tip my hips.
He rammed in deeper.
“Baby,” I panted.
His head dropped so he could watch again and he groaned, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”
Oh yeah.
It totally was.
But I was close.
My hands clenched in his. “Ren.”
He drove in faster, harder.
“Ren,” I whispered, and suddenly I had his weight, his mouth, his tongue and that did it.
I came. Thighs squeezing, heels digging in, fingers clasping, moaning against his tongue, hard.
It took a while, but when it left me, he rolled so I was straddling him and lifted up, taking us from missionary to lotus.
My number one.
Righteous.
One of his hands went between my legs as his other one gripped my hip encouragingly. “Ride me, honey.”
I didn’t need to be asked twice. My arms sliding around his shoulders, I rode him and did it fast, taking him deep, my lips to his, eyes locked, breath mixing.
His thumb pressed in and circled.
I whimpered.
“You’re goin’ again,” he demanded.
I hoped so.
“Okay,” I breathed, moving faster.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his hand sliding up my hip, side, in over my ribs to cup my breast, his thumb dragging over my rock-hard nipple. “Get there, Ally.”
