Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
I yank open my desk drawer to retrieve my car keys, my hand pausing in mid-air when I find a pair of panties sitting there instead. My balls draw up tight and I have to grab the desk to maintain my balance under the onslaught of lust. Of course, I recognize my wife’s panties on sight. I’m the one who buys them for her. I’m the one who picks which pair she’ll wear every morning.
These are black and white and red, a heart pattern. I bought them a size too small. When I brought them home, I made Peyton put them on—only them. Nothing else. And then I told her to lie facedown on the bed and hump a stuffed animal I won her at the county fair until she climaxed. I came in my pants after a mere minute, then again when she hit her peak.
Yes, they’re a particular favorite.
I’m already rubbing them against the bulging fly of my jeans. Not only because I know they’ve touched her sex. But because she put these here.
My wife is here.
Stalking me.
A hoarse sound climbs my throat and I push off the desk, stuffing her panties in my pocket on the way out of my office. I hear nothing, see nothing, except the path in front of me. The one that will lead me to her. My breath sounds loud in my ears, my tongue thick in my mouth. I check my car first to see if she’s there, but I don’t find her. I sweep the property, growing more and more aroused the longer it takes me to track her down. Finally, I enter the lot full of cars waiting for repair—
And I catch a flash of brown curls.
They disappear behind an Acura and I stride in that direction, taking her panties out of my pocket and pressing them to my nose. Quick footsteps tell me she’s running from me. I close my eyes and listen, trying to judge the direction she’s taking, and when I figure out her course, I jog back three car lengths and take a fast right, catching her around the middle when she careens around the next curve.
“Got you now,” I grunt, dragging her to the hood of the nearest car and throwing her facedown over the hood. My wife, my Peyton, whimpers as if she’s scared, as if she doesn’t know I would die for her in a heartbeat. And she struggles as I yank up her skirt, finding her delicious ass bare, as I suspected I would. “Did you think you could sneak around and not get caught?”
I crack my palm against her backside, producing a broken moan from her perfect, beloved mouth. Then my fingers find her. Two into her incredibly narrow channel. Hard. Pumping in and out. “I…I thought…”
“You thought you could leave the sweet scent of this pussy in my office and I wouldn’t track it down?” I push my fingers deep, as deep as they’ll go, leaning down to speak in her ear. “I’d kill for this hot little thing.”
Her breath catches, eyelids fluttering. “You have killed for it.”
My heart stutters in my chest.
She knows.
For a long time, I worried she would find out I ended the life of the man who dared touch what’s mine. Who dared scare her. We are twisted in a lot of ways, my wife and I, but murder is another level of dark entirely, so I hoped she’d never find out I left her sleeping the middle of the night five years ago and woke Tony up with my hands wrapped around his neck. But she did find out.
And she’s still here.
She’s not just here, she’s…tilting her hips up, begging me without words for the rough treatment of my shaft. When I growl into her neck and buck into Peyton’s heat, we’re embarking on a whole new level of depraved. Of trust and connection. And I welcome it, crave the additional closeness of her with every fiber of my being.
“I love you,” she whispers, turning her head so we can devour each other’s mouths over her shoulder, the vehicle rocking back and forth between us.
“I love you, too,” I heave, and then I chant those three words over and over again until they blur together…
THE END