Extra Whip (Bold Brew #8) - L.A. Witt Page 0,164

Will almost made me cry with sheer relief. My exhaustion was forgotten as my husband’s deep kiss and hungry touch brought me back to life from my spinning head to my curling toes.

For ages, we just lay there and kissed, sliding our hands all over each other’s bare skin. This wasn’t the time for kink. We just needed to connect, to get back on the same wavelength and drive home how much we wanted each other. Last night and today had been miserable, and there were still things we needed to work out—there was still a whip-wielding elephant in the room to address—but first we needed each other like this. I’d been scared to death I was losing him for good, and in this moment, the only thing that mattered was letting him know with every kiss and touch that he wasn’t losing me.

Will rolled onto his back, and I got on top, straddling him. As we kept making out, our hips fell into a steady rhythm, rubbing our hard cocks between our bodies. Where this energy had come from, I had no idea, but I didn’t argue with it—I wanted him, I needed him, and thank God, I had him.

He pushed himself up and looked in my eyes. “Get the lube.”

I immediately lunged for the nightstand. I had no idea what he was planning, but whatever it was, I was game. Jerking each other off, bottoming for him, topping him—sign me up as long as we were tangled up and losing our minds.

As he uncapped the bottle, he growled, “On your back.”

Of course I obeyed. This may not have been a kink scene, but he was still my Dom, and when he gave me an order, I followed it.

Will closed his slick hand around my cock, and I almost came up off the bed. “Fuck!”

He grinned. “Something wrong?”

“N-no. Just—” I sucked in a sharp hiss as he stroked me slowly, coating every inch of my shaft with a generous amount of lube. “Oh God…”

“You better not come yet,” he teased, adding a twist at the head because he was a bastard like that. “Not until you’ve fucked me.”

I bit my lip, but that didn’t stop the whimper from escaping. “How… How do you want me?”

“Just like this.” His hand stopped. “Don’t move.”

I wasn’t sure I could have—my whole body was thrumming with need for him, and all I could think was how badly I wanted to be inside him. As he climbed on top of me, my toes curled and my pounded. Yes, yes, yes, please.

We’d done this enough times, neither of us had to say a word. I fingered him a little to make sure he was ready, and when he was, I steadied my cock and guided him down. Once the head slid into him, I let him take over. Good thing, too, because as soon as he started taking me, my mind went blank and all I could think was how amazing he felt and how gorgeous he was.

He eased himself down a few times. Once he’d relaxed, he took me quickly, in just a few more careful but frantic strokes, and we both sighed as he fell into a steady rhythm of riding my cock. I reached for him, but he pinned my wrists to the mattress as he rode me, and… My God. This was heaven. All I could do was lie here, and be ridden, and gaze up at the beautiful man I’d have married a hundred times over if it were an option. He looked so sexy like that—over me, flushed skin glowing with sweat, salt-and-pepper hair plastered to his chest, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips moving with soundless curses every time he came down on my cock.

“You’re so gorgeous,” I mumbled. “Fuck, baby…”

His eyes opened and looked right into mine, and electricity crackled along my nerve endings as he gazed at me and rode me and held me down and—

“Can I come?” I pleaded. “Please?”

On any other night, he would’ve edged me into oblivion, but he panted, “Yeah. Come.”

My hips jerked. I dug my heels into the mattress, thrust up into him, and cried out as I came inside him. He grunted softly, and he released one of my wrists. Pumping himself furiously, he came a second later, shooting cum all over his hand and my stomach.

He let go of my other wrist, and as he slumped over me, I wrapped my arms around him. We came together in

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