her bottom lip through her teeth, she asks, “Can we go to Chicago?”
Eager to support my wife, I suggest, “Tomorrow?”
Though tears dazzle in my wife’s eyes, she laughs. “I won’t change my mind, Leith. However, tomorrow sounds perfect. I . . . uh . . . never visited my parents’ grave after their funeral.”
“This time, ye have me, hen. I’ll be there every second of the way.”
She nods thoughtfully. “Alright, I’d like to stick a pin in this. Tomorrow, I promise more bearing my soul. Right now, I desperately want you to kiss me.”
Clasping the back of her neck, I hold her a fraction away. “Ye want a kiss?”
“More than anything in the world, Leith.” Her voice is tiny, delicious, and goes straight to my cock as she adds, “You could make me beg. I desperately love it when you do.”
Satisfied with her genuine response, I cup Chevelle’s thigh, bringing her into my lap.
“Should I punish ye?” I stop short of the salacious title, my little feck toy, which makes Chevelle dizzy with desire when she’s in trouble.
I gently frame her face and taste the champagne still on her lips. I run my hands over the silk material of her dress, gradually removing it while kissing her softly. When Chevelle’s straddling me with her breasts practically spilling from her bra, I cup her tits together, inhaling her sugary scent.
“So feckin’ breathtaking.” I peel the silk layer that separates my intense gaze from her bare skin.
Chevelle dips her head, nipping at my neck and running her hands beneath my shirt. Her thumb massages over the bruising along my ribs. A fire rages through me. I’m almost incapable of stopping her as she pulls my dick out and starts to position herself between my legs. I interrupt her, though my cock would thoroughly appreciate her mouth, returning her sturdy thighs around my waist.
“Tonight’s about ye, hen.” I tease, kissing her collarbone, her neck, then capture her lips with my own for a passionate taste. Chevelle sighs, arching into my erection.
She runs a finger beneath the waistband of my pants teasingly. “After all you’ve done for me, Leith. You sure? Tonight could be about you.”
“Trust me. I’ll enjoy every moment of this.” I smile, shoving the seat back. I press her legs wide, manhandle my dick, and slither the head around her wet sex. My tongue explores her ear, and I can feel her relaxing further into me. She squirms as my tongue runs along the length of her neck, then I nibble at her skin. At her sharp intake of air, I fasten my mouth around her hardened nipple.
“Leith.” Chevelle sighs, attempting to spear her swollen pussy lips along my erection. I continue to caress her breasts with my tongue. She’s conquered by a staccato of moans. My dick deep-dives into her slick warmth. My thumb and forefinger stroke her clit until the overwhelming pleasure breaks her down, bit by bit.
“I’m cumming!” Chevelle bounces up and down, riding out her orgasm. For a while, we grind together. Her tiny orgasms squeeze my dick.
When she’s at the height of her next orgasm, I grip her thighs, thrusting deeply into her. My wife clutches me, unable to do anything but scream my name repeatedly and writhe.
“I love feckin’ ye. I love ye!” I groan out. Her legs lock around my waist, soft breath in my ears as I plow into her. One last incredibly deep thrust causes Chevelle’s screaming to crescendo. She collapses into me. I savor this memory, glancing across her sweat-slicked skin.
“Cum with me, baby,” Chevelle reads my mind. Her mouth crashes into mine for a deep, long kiss. “Please, Leith.”
Savoring the sensation of her wet slit spasming around me, I kiss the single tear trickling down Chevelle’s cheek. My rhythm increases, and while we kiss, we pass the point of no return.
A while later, our heartbeats sync. A peace transcends for some time, and the only sound around us is the quiet night. Out of nowhere, my wife speaks.
“Ever since I was twelve,” Chevelle’s voice muffles, tickling my neck. “These arms have shielded me from the world. I still remember the first time you called me hen. A million emotions swarmed through me—elation, exasperation.”
While licking her pulse point, I whisper against her throat, “That so?”
“Yup.” She sighs. “I was already in love with you. I also was very much afraid of your reaction had I cursed you out for what I assumed was name-calling.”