by Cynthia Dane
“I only want you to feel better after what I’ve accused you of.”
“There are many ways for my wife to make me feel better.”
“I’m sure there are, sir.” Lana loosened his tie and pulled it off his throat, watching the purple silk slide against his white shirt and curl around her arm. “What should I start with?”
“You? Start? You’re misinformed, my love.” Ken yanked his tie from her hand and tossed it onto his desk, his figure looming formidably above her, forcing her to sit on the edge of his workspace and search for his lips if she wanted a kiss. And she did. Lana wanted to kiss her husband, to move on, to feel his warmth overtake her and make a renewed woman out of her. “You’re going to stand there and be still until I tell you otherwise.”
Lana curled her fingers around the edge of the desk, feeling her knuckles tense and turn another color. “Yes, sir.” Her thighs were on fire beneath her cotton shorts, even though the room temperature made her shiver without her robe. “Do whatever you want to me, sir.”
His thumb trailed down her cheek to her breasts, where her firm nipples made them both react with sexual alacrity. Ken gently kissed his wife’s lips, fingers rolling against her nipple and making her freeze in arousal. Lana relaxed her body and prepared to have her husband completely consume her.
“You’re still as sexy as you were ten years ago, Bunny,” he murmured against her mouth. “Whenever I see you, I want to do nothing more than make endless love to you.” He laughed. “Or fuck you senseless. Sometimes there is a difference.”
Didn’t she know it. They had been exploring that difference for a good twelve years now.
“I don’t know how you could think I’m not still madly in love with you after so little time.” Ken held fast to her hips, his lips descending the front of her rolled up shirt and pressing against her breasts. Lana gasped as he ran his tongue over her nipple. “Ten years isn’t anything, Lana. It would take at least a thousand years to start getting tired of you, and I doubt that would ever happen.”
He pulled her shorts down, revealing her smooth skin and finer hair that she kept groomed in part because she liked to, and in part because she always enjoyed the surprise in Ken’s eyes when he caught sight of her latest style. Ken forwent that this time, however. He was more preoccupied with nuzzling her slit as he helped her step out of her shorts and lingerie.
“Every time you saunter into this office in your pretty heels, pencil skirts, lingerie, and T-shirts, I have to wonder if you know what kind of effect you still have on me.” His finger pushed into her slit, easing her legs open with another moan in her throat. “I know exactly what kind of woman I’ve married. Even if you come in here to talk dinner or business, I know it could very well end with you bent over my desk taking my cock as deep as you can.”
Lana shuddered. “I often think that when I come in here.”
“Good.” Ken tugged on both her nipples, grinning at the amount of whimpers he made her utter. “Because I can’t wait to do that to you. Just as soon as you get your first piece of punishment. Do you know what that’s going to be?”
They kissed, Lana throwing herself into it as much as Ken did. I know what it is. Her hand went to his zipper as her tongue dared his to take over. I’m not an idiot. I know what this man wants to do to me. The more she thought about it, the more she fought the urge to drop to her knees right now and beg for forgiveness – the only way she knew how.
“You want me to suck your cock, sir.”
“Yes, Bunny. And then I’m going to fuck you.”
She didn’t think that would be a problem. As she got on her knees and pulled her husband from his pants, all Lana considered was how much this was turning her on.
From enraged that she finally found the evidence that her husband was cheating on her, to this… how else could Lana explain her marriage? I barely understand it sometimes. To think that she grew up with the image of men and women being too bored with each other to do this sort of thing. To think she thought her frolic in college would be the most excitement she ever got. I’d turn in the gangbang and all that if it meant I got to keep Ken for the rest of my life. Even down there, on her knees, she felt like she did nothing but adore him and the body he offered up whenever the mood struck them.
“That’s it.” Ken pushed her hair out of the way as she took him into her mouth, stretching her jaw and stretching her small mouth so she could take his hardening shaft and the precum starting to drip from his tip.
Is this better? Am I making it better? Lana didn’t know how to shower her husband with affection in any other way. She only knew sexual liberties like sucking him off, playing with other people for his amusement, and feeling him take her every which way imaginable. If someone told her ten years ago that she would not only stay married to Ken for so long, but also have more sex with him than anyone else… I’d clock you.
“Good girl.” Ken steadied her as he sat in his chair, content to let her do all the work now. Lana knelt between his legs and pleasured him. His tip was thick in her throat, but not as thick as the rest of him filling her mouth and begging to take it in a few quick strokes. She kept him at bay by wrapping her hand firmly around his base. “You’re amazing, Lana.”
I’m amazing… Lana pulled off him, looking up into his soft eyes while he twisted her hair around his hand and gave it gentle tugs. “Thank you, sir.”
She stroked him, sometimes quickly, sometimes sensually, her body craving his the more she knelt down there and wished he would fuck her. I’ll make you feel amazing… She sucked his tip, looking at him adoringly, his grunts of approval all Lana needed to feel her body ache, ache in ways it hadn’t ached for her husband in so long.
“Is this what you want?” She didn’t mean to sound so eager, and yet that’s how it came out when she took a few moments to speak. “Do you want me on my knees doing this?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Are you going to fuck me?”
“No need to sound so innocent, Bunny. I know for a fact that you’re anything but.”
That’s right. Lana was one of the least innocent women she knew. Not always because of Ken… but he was the one who constantly reminded her now. “I’m not, sir.” She felt not a drop of shame kneeling there, holding her husband’s cock in her hand as she brushed her thumb across the tip. “I’m not innocent at all.”
“I wouldn’t want you to be innocent. I would much rather have my wife be the dirtiest tramp I’ve ever met.”
Every time he calls me that when we’re like this, I get hotter. Lana knew what she was. She knew what she had done in her life and what she wanted to continue to do. She would do it all with Ken – the only man allowed to call her a whore during sex.
“Only for you, sir.” With her eyes still locked on his, Lana sucked his tip again, her lips firm against his skin.
“Thing is, Wife, I believe you when you say that. Because I trust you. Now get up. I need to remind you who I spend my time fucking.”
Lana pulled herself up. Her shirt fell, covering her breasts and stomach, and with one, stern look from her husband she lifted the white cotton again. I’m sorry, Husband. Here are my tits. Better now? Sheesh, she was sometimes too much for her own good.
And so was Ken, who grabbed her, pulled her to him, kissed her throat as if he would suck all the blood from her body, and then shoved her against his desk as she cried in surprise.
“I’m going to fuck you.”
As Lana’s nipples grazed the top of her husband’s desk and her hands braced against the hard wood, Ken pushed the head of his cock into her and made good on his prior promises.
She was maybe half ready. For Lana, that meant a quick, jarring moment of pain and then intense pleasure that nearly took her by storm.
“Oh my God!” she shrieked, the friction shocking her. What shocked her more, however, was how Ken knew to enter her tightness without meeting too much resistance. Only a man who had taken th
e time over the past decade to learn her body would know how to do that. “Ken!”
The miraculous thing – all right, so not miraculous, but damn crazy – was how quickly she became wet enough to take more of this. More! Lana had a brief moment of concern that sex with her husband would be nothing but discomfort and pain. And then he pulled out long enough to let her get wet… and then it felt like nothing but the greatest thing she could possibly do with the man she married.
“Take it, Lana.” His hands gripped her shoulders, keeping her immobile as he roughly thrust into her, forcing her to stretch open and accept every inch of him. Lana held her surprise in, forming a soundless, wordless scream as her mouth contorted into something she would never recognize. As the desk stimulated her nipples, all she could think about was her strong, passionate husband proving to her how he still desired her. “Take me and tell me what you are.”
“I’m yours,” she whimpered, her entire body shaking. “I’m yours, Mr. Andrews.”
He stilled within her. Lana collapsed against the desk, one leg attempting to rise on it if it weren’t for Ken pulling it back down.
“You’re the only one I need, Wife. Did you hear that? You’re my wife.” Ken moved again, this time gentler, as if he were making tender love to her. Lana hid her face behind her hand. Everything was almost too much to bear. “That means you’re the only one I really need for the rest of my life. Do you believe me?”
It was hard to answer when he was so deep inside her, his cock warm and familiar, yet using her in ways she hadn’t felt in so long. “Yes,” she whimpered again. “I believe you. You’re the only one I really need too.”
He pulled out, letting the cold air into her body. How did he get me that stretched so quickly… Lana didn’t have time to think. Ken yanked her off his desk, hauling her over to the leather sofa he sometimes lounged on. When Lana landed on it, back against leather and left leg swinging over the top of the couch, she knew she wasn’t getting off it again until her husband punished and claimed her.
“You’re mine, Lana.” His growl made her tremble. The buttons popping off his shirt as he quickly disrobed it made her lose herself all over her thighs and the leather beneath her body. “For ten more years, for the rest of my life, I’m not making love to anyone like I make love to you. Now promise me you’ll respect my integrity from now on.”
“I will!”
“Do you want my cock?” It remained between her spread legs, refusing to enter until she answered. “Tell me you want it.”
“I do!” Lana didn’t just want that. She wanted him, her husband, the man she loved and swore loved her back. “Fuck me, Ken!”
No matter how in charge he was in any situation, Ken could never resist a request like that. He slipped right into her, taking her to his hilt and forcing all his strength into her. Lana cried in ecstasy, in pain, in foreboding as her husband used her as he damn well pleased.
Lana didn’t care what others may say about her. She didn’t care what she looked like when she had sex. She didn’t regard the world as a place where her worth was tied into her role as wife and mistress of a household. In these moments, however, she wanted to believe that the world didn’t exist outside of her and Ken anyway. No other man made her feel this way. Now she understood that no other woman made him feel this way.
Throwing all that trust back into the man turned her into the person she knew she wanted to be.
“Hell, Lana.” Ken grabbed her breasts, driving himself deep within her, searching for the spot that would send her to another realm of reality. When he does, I’ll come, and then he’ll come with me. He once told her that he never orgasmed as hard as he did when he watched her climax. They weren’t perfect. There were many times one would finish climaxing before the other began. But when they could be in perfect unison? Lana never felt more in tune with her husband than in those moments. “Fuck me, you’re so damned hot.”
She was hot? Did the man know what he looked like, with the sweat running down his chest and his slick cock coming in and out of her? Lana grabbed his arms and closed her eyes. “Come in me, Ken,” she demanded, stepping out of her bounds. “I want to feel like your wife.”
He slipped his hands from her breasts to her neck. “Don’t you mean my whore?”
“Same difference.”
The way he took her after that was unlike ever before.
There was pain, but it was so satisfying, because it meant she was alive with her husband, here and now. The pain was eclipsed by the intense pleasure rippling through her, attempting to drag Ken down with her into the abyss she carved by herself. Kill us both and let us rest in peace. It was morbid to think about death during sex, and yet Lana found it peaceful. They were going to be together for the rest of their lives, carnally and spiritually. One day they would lose the carnally. Was that such a bad thing?
Well, for now she was more than happy to keep the carnal side of things. Especially when she began to climax, her whole body shaking in pleasure and begging to feel her husband come inside her – to reassure her that she was his for now, for eternity.
“Ken!” She dug her fingers into anything they could find: his shoulders, his chest, his hips, the couch… nothing was sacred as the delights of marital bliss overcame her. “I’m coming!”
“I know.”
Ken struggled to thrust as intently after that, since Lana’s body completely clamped down on him and insisted on keeping him as long as possible. At that point, her husband, her Master, the love of her life had no choice but to give in to his urges.
His hand searched for hers, holding it above her head as the rest of her continued to shake against the couch. Ken made short work of himself, of her, uniting their bodies in the most intimate way he knew how.
No man has ever felt this good inside me. Nor had any man felt as satisfying losing himself inside of her. The deep sounds in his throat… the heat of his body… the arousing scent of their bodies come together. Lana fell into a spell that allowed her to transcend every negative feeling plaguing her heart and mind.
Thank God.
“Holy shit…” Ken collapsed on top of her, still inside her body but unwilling to move. Good. Lana wanted to hold onto this moment a little longer. “I love you, Lana.”
She sighed, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling against his warm form. “I love you too, Kenny.”
Their kisses did not lose their intensity for a while. Not when they were so full of the love they reclaimed from one another. He would never betray me. Not this man. Not the man who asked her out, who seduced her, who proposed to her, who married her, who spent the past twelve years smitten with her and the fun she brought to their lives. Perhaps with any other woman he would not be so content, but as long as they had each other, there was no reason to believe that anything was other than what it seemed.
When they eventually detached, Lana sitting up while Ken leaned against the back of the couch, she had a new thought. “Do you really think I’m a whore?” she asked. She was prepared for either answer. Ken had heard every sordid story she had to tell a few times over.
“Oh, Bunny, you know that’s playing around. I thought you liked it.”
“I do. When you’re going at me like that, I like it when you call me that.” Lana shrugged. “Was just wondering.”
“Don’t do that.” Ken stroked her hair, combing out a few tiny tangles with his fingers. “I want you to take all those negative feelings and forget them. They’re not true, Bunny. I love you. I’ve always loved you. There are no other women… none you’re not shoving in my direction, anyway. And if they never came around again? I don’t care. I enjoy the fun we have with others, but if it were only you and me for the rest of our days, I’d be as excited to live my life.”
She leaned against his shoulder, sighing. “I feel the same way.”
It felt good to no longer be so paranoid.
Chapter 12
“It’s Called Doing Both
.”
An escape to the Bahamas was what Lana needed after her so far tumultuous winter. Thankfully, a second honeymoon to one of the most exclusive islands in the Caribbean meant lots of warm sunshine and, well, more.
It was Day 4, and Lana was already feeling so lazy that she didn’t mind spending chunks of change here and there to have waiters bring towels at the pool, drinks at the beach, and sunscreen everywhere in between. The only man allowed to rub it into her skin, however, was her husband Ken. Well, him and the cabana boy tidying up her private oasis by the pool.
“Right there, yes,” she purred, watching as the sculpted stud of a young man pressed between her toes. It tickled a little, but Lana was able to ignore it as long as Mr. Hotness kept up his foot rub. He is so damn fine. Tanned. Ripped. Just smart enough to know what he was doing but also coasting by on his stunning good looks. The man was a pro at doing whatever Lana told him to do. He makes a killing seducing married women here. Hence Mr. Hotness’s mini-freakout when Ken approached in his wet swim trunks and a towel wrapped around his shoulders.
“I leave you alone for twenty minutes in this criminally hot black bikini of yours, and lo’ and behold, you’ve got my replacement already.”
The cabana boy leaped up, apologized to Mr. Andrews, and took off for the main house a few yards away. This left Ken and Lana alone in their private cabana, although plenty of other resort guests milling about could see what they were up to. Good.
“I hate to break it to you, Husband, but the man gave a better foot rub than you could ever hope to do.”