Ad copy

“I know how to fake it,” she threatens. “Better than anyone else. What makes you think you can tell the difference?” “Only lazy men can’t tell the difference. You fake it because you don’t think you’ll be able to c-me. They get frustrated with how long it takes you, and they don’t care enough to challenge it because all they want to do is c-me." She squints at me. “You’re saying you don’t?” “I’m saying the whole reason we’re doing this is for me to make you c-me, so faking is futile and doesn’t help either of us. If I don’t make you c-me, then don’t c-me. But I know I can, and I will.” “How—” She clears her throat, and her pink tongue licks her equally pink lips. “How do you know?”“Because I’m not making you c-me as a means to my end. I’m making you c-me because that’s the only thing I’m after. The thing I want most.” I grip her thighs and yank her all the way to the edge of the counter while tilting them back, eliciting a surprised squeal from her. I shouldn’t be doing this. Like I really shouldn’t. My daughter is upstairs asleep because she called me from my parents’ house, sobbing and inconsolable, to pick her up before Alden and I even made it to a restaurant. Not to mention, I married Skylar under the pretense of never touching her. But I think I have to. I mean, I really have to taste her. And I really have to make her c-me. This feels like my shot at that, and I’ll regret it always if I don’t act. The rest of our adult problems and reasons can wait till the morning. “It’ll just be this,” I tell her and myself, leaning in to drag my nose along her neck so I can smell her. I pulse, thick and heavy in my pants. “I’m pregnant with another man’s kid.” I meet her eyes. “I don’t care. You’re my wife now, and I want to make you c-me.” I hook her legs on my hips and slide my hand up her inner thigh until I find her sweet little p-nties. They’re cute. Pink and smxy and girly. Just like her. “Tell me yes, Skylar.” I think I might be begging now, but if she tells me no, I’ll die. I have to taste her. I just have to. “Aston…” Her voice dies, but the way she says my name makes me so hard. “That’s it,” I purr, running my fingers in a sweeping motion over the wet spot at her center. So warm, and when I drag lower, so wet. I force my gaze up, and when I see her face, shit… Hell. “My gorgeous wife, I’m going to make you c-me unless you tell me to stop right now.”