Intoxicated

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Intoxicated Page 5

by Monica Murphy


  “Feel this,” he tells me as he takes my hand and places it over the very firm erection straining against his black trousers. I stroke him slowly, from base to tip, can feel almost every blessed inch and nuance of his flesh, and I smile up at him when I see the blissed-out expression already crossing his face.

  “I think my husband wants me,” I murmur as I stroke him again. A little quicker this time.

  “You’re damn right he does.”

  “Think I can get on my knees in this getup?” I kick out my foot, making my skirt flare, and Gage chuckles.

  “Are you serious?”

  Oh, that’s a challenge if I’ve ever heard one. That’s one thing Gage and I like to do—constantly challenge each other. “Watch me,” I say as I gather my skirt in one hand and get down on my knees in front of my now very shocked husband.

  Without hesitation I reach for him and unzip his fly, impressed by his thick cock straining against the damp cotton of his underwear.

  “Five minutes, baby?” he asks, his fingers sliding into my hair and pulling me closer to his erection. “Think you can do it?”

  “I know I can,” I murmur just before I wrap my lips around the tip of his cock, his low hum of pleasure sending a shot of arousal through me. Just like that I’m turned on again.

  And just like that I make my husband come in less than five minutes with only my mouth. On our wedding day, down the hall from where our reception still rages on.

  Yeah. Life can’t get much better than this, can it?

  Ivy

  “BABY. BABY, BABY, baby, baby.”

  I let my head flop against the pillow, my chest aching with the ragged breaths I’ve been struggling to take. This pushing a baby out of my vagina business is fucking hard. Why didn’t my mom ever tell me this?

  Probably because she knew I’d refuse to do it if I understood the truth.

  “Are you talking to me or your future son or daughter?” I ask Archer when I finally find my breath once again. My mouth is dry. My skin is soaked with sweat, and I feel like I’m going to collapse which is sort of funny considering I’m lying down. Well, half lying down, since I bend forward every few minutes to try and push the baby out.

  “You. I’m talking to you, babe. Trying to encourage you.” Archer takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. God, I love this man. I really hope with the next few pushes I can produce that baby he’s so eagerly awaiting. “You’ve got this, babe. You’ve been working so hard.”

  “I know,” I whisper, closing my eyes when I hear the doctor start talking. He keeps saying all the right things, but those things are irritating the crap out of me right now. The only one I want to focus on is my husband. That’s it.

  No one else.

  “One more push, Ivy, and you could be holding your baby in your arms within minutes,” the doctor says, making me want to punch him.

  He’s a guy. He has no comprehension just how damn hard this entire endeavor is.

  “Ivy.” Archer squeezes my hand again and my eyes pop open to find him watching me, an encouraging expression on his handsome, albeit tired face. “Let’s do this, baby. One more push. You’re so damn close. I can see our baby’s head. So much dark hair and a little scrunched up face.” He was just down there with the doctor, checking me out in all my naked, pushing a baby out of my vagina glory and at any other moment, I might’ve been slightly freaked out.

  But not now. I just flat out don’t care. I want the baby out. I’m done. I’m tired and worn out and burned out and done, done, done.

  “One more giant push, and we’re a family of three,” Archer continues. “Isn’t that what you want? Your mom and dad are waiting in the lobby, and they can’t wait to meet their grandchild. Gage texted me and said he and Marina are going to stop by before they head to the hotel. Let’s go, babe. You ready?”

  Archer knows exactly what to say to pump me up. That my parents are waiting, that Gage and Marina are going to stop by in the hopes that they see the baby, spurs me on. “Yes.” I struggle to sit up and he helps me. I’m bent forward, my knees pointed toward the sky, my legs spread wide for God and everyone to see, and I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and push with all my might.

  This is it. I gotta make this happen. I’m tired, and my baby needs to be in my arms.

  Within seconds I feel the baby spill out of me. That’s what it feels like at least. A baby just slipped right out of my body and ended up in the doctor’s hands.

  “It’s a boy,” he declares just as a piercing cry fills the room.

  “I knew it,” I mumble as I watch Archer look at his son for the first time.

  “Cut the cord,” the doctor encourages, and Archer does, looking like he’s in a daze as the doctor hands me my baby. I’m crying, cuddling the baby close to my bare skin. I bend over him and sniff his damp head, feel his little face root against my chest like he’s looking for a nipple already.

  Greedy little thing. Just like his father.

  “A boy.” Archer settles his hand over our son’s head, his palm covering it entirely. His tone, his expression is full of awe and disbelief. He lifts his head, his gaze meeting mine. I see tears glimmer there and that spurs my tears on, until the both of us are smiling and crying and cuddling our baby close.

  “He’s beautiful,” I say.

  “Like his mama,” Archer agrees, solemnly. “Thank you, Ivy.”

  “For what?”

  “For giving me a son.”

  “You had a hand in it too.” I smile and stroke our son’s downy soft hair. The nurse will take him soon to clean him up, so I need to cherish this moment for as long as I can.

  “What are we naming him?” Archer asks.

  I tilt my head, contemplating him. “Didn’t we talk about this already?”

  “Well, yeah.” Archer shrugs, his gaze dropping to our baby once more. “But a woman is allowed to change her mind.”

  “You mean that? Okay, I want to name him Oscar then,” I suggest.

  Archer grimaces. “Hell. No.”

  “Pauly.”

  “Gimme a break.”

  “Jeffrey.”

  “That name is just . . . no.” Archer shakes his head.

  “Fine.” I roll my eyes, cradling my son close as I stare down at him with wonder. My fingers drift across his cheek, caressing his tiny little rosebud lips as I murmur, “Welcome to the world, Jackson.”

  We’ve been discussing names for months, arguing back and forth. One of us would come up with a suggestion we loved just as the other would shoot it down with both barrels. It became a point of contention, made worse because we didn’t know what we were having, but I wouldn’t budge on finding out early.

  It was kind of fun, keeping it a surprise, though deep down inside I knew Jackson was a he. We kept going round and round with girl names but looks like that didn’t matter. A few weeks ago, we agreed on Jackson as a name if he was a boy, and I loved the choice.

  So did my husband.

  Jackson Archer Bancroft has a nice ring to it.

  Archer scoots closer to us, sitting on the edge of the bed as he reaches out and strokes the baby’s cheek just like I did only moments ago. “Welcome, little man. We’re glad to finally meet you.”

  Turning, I lean in and kiss my husband’s cheek, overwhelmed with love for both of these men in my life. “I love you,” I whisper. “So much.”

  “Love you too, babe. More than you’ll ever know,” he murmurs.

  I feel exactly the same way.

  Chapter Six

  * * *

  Gage

  One week since the wedding

  “I DON’T WANT to go home. Can’t we just live here forever?” My wife crosses her arms in front of her bare chest and pouts, looking sexy as hell wearing a skimpy little white bikini bottom and nothing else. Her skin is golden from the sun, her blonde hair piled up on top of her head in a messy knot. Giant sunglasses obscure her eyes and a thin gold chain hangs from her neck. The wedding band on her ring finger is th
e only other piece of jewelry she’s wearing.

  She’s bare and simple and so freaking gorgeous it almost hurts to look at her.

  Almost.

  “I would love to live here forever,” I agree, looking around at the view of the crystal blue ocean spread before us. We’re staying at an exclusive resort in a three-room suite with a giant balcony that has the best view of the ocean I’ve ever seen. “Maybe I’ll move my business over here. I can sell luxurious vacation homes to the rich.”

  “Ooh, are you serious?” The excitement in her voice makes me smile. She lifts her glasses and peers at me, as if to see if I’m for real or not. “And I can open a bakery here. But I won’t call it Autumn Harvest. How about Tropical Harvest instead?”

  “Sure. Whatever. It all sounds good as long as I have you with me.” I lean back against my lounge chair and slip my glasses down so the intense sun doesn’t blind me. We haven’t done anything our entire honeymoon besides eat, swim, have sex, lounge around, lay on the beach, have sex, eat—

  Yeah. It’s been great. Relaxing. My stressed-out bride-to-be has completely disappeared and in her place is my relaxed, happy wife. I don’t want to go home either.

  But the reality is we’re flying back tomorrow. Another reality? I’ll be glad to see everyone. Happy to see baby Jackson and watch my sister and best friend lose their minds over one tiny human being.

  “I wonder if Jackson’s changed at all,” Marina muses, reading my mind as usual.

  “It’s been a week,” I say. “He’ll be what? Eight days old by the time we see him again? Nine? I’m sure he hasn’t changed much since we met him at the hospital.” We’d lucked out when we were finally able to stop by. Along with the baby, we got to see Archer and a very exhausted Ivy. Marina had held the baby and cried along with Ivy, which had moved me because I’d had a sudden image of Marina holding our baby someday.

  Crazy.

  “I’ve heard they can almost double their weight in the first week. He’ll be a completely different baby.” I glance over to see more pouting from my wife. “He won’t even recognize us I bet.”

  I bark out a surprised laugh. “You gotta be kidding me. He didn’t recognize us before.”

  “He heard my voice a lot when he was in the womb. I know he knows me. I’ll be his favorite aunt.” She drops her arms to her sides and relaxes against the overstuffed lounger cushion, her glasses once more in place over her eyes, her smooth skin glistening beneath the sun.

  “You’ll be his only aunt,” I say, my mouth going dry as I study her. Seeing her like this, wearing the tiny white bikini bottom and nothing else is making my cock rise to the occasion. You think I’d be exhausted from all the sex or at the very least, somewhat immune to seeing my wife half naked.

  Guess not.

  “Do you want a baby right away, Gage?” she asks suddenly.

  And there goes my erection. “Uh . . . not really. Unless you do,” I add quickly though I kind of, sort of, don’t mean it. We only just got married. We have lots of time before we need to start making babies and creating a family.

  We can definitely practice all the time but actual babies? Not yet. For now, I’ll leave that up to my sister.

  “I don’t,” she says as she tilts her face up to the sun. Damn, she’s pretty. “I mean, I do want them someday, but not yet. We have plenty of time. If I get baby fever, I’ll just find Jackson. I bet he’d let me cuddle him all I want.”

  “I’m sure he would,” I drawl, my gaze locked on her breasts. She has no tan lines on her upper body. It’s all golden skin and hard pink nipples. My mouth starts to water just thinking about sucking on them.

  She looks over at me, raising her sunglasses to the top of her head once more. “Are you checking me out?”

  “Always,” I say with a grin. I’m not going to be ashamed by my appreciation of my wife. She’s a work of art. Beautiful and sweet and so giving. I lucked out and I know it.

  “You going to do something about that?” She waves her hand at the vicinity of my swim trunks.

  Glancing down, I look at my erection and then her. “Are you going to do something about it?” I ask pointedly.

  Marina can barely hide the grin on her face. “What would you like, O husband of mine?”

  “Hmm, I don’t know.” I settle my hand over my cock and give it a firm stroke, my gaze cutting to hers. She’s watching me closely, her eyes locked on my hand, her lips parted seemingly in fascination. That we haven’t grown tired of constantly having sex kind of blows my mind.

  But I am definitely not tired of her. And I’m pretty sure she’s not tired of me either.

  “Would you like me to come over there and join you?” she asks as she stands, tossing her sunglasses on the chair before she takes the few steps and stops at the edge of my lounger. “You’re looking lonely.”

  “I am lonely.” I grunt in surprise when she settles right on top of me, warm and soft as she straddles my hips, her bent knees on either side. “I’m not so lonely anymore though,” I murmur.

  She rests her hands on the top of the lounge chair, her breasts right in my face. Tilting my head up, I capture one nipple with my lips and suck, earning a gasp for my efforts.

  A warm breeze washes over us, doing nothing to cool the incessant sexual fever raging within me as I place my hand on the center of her back and bring her chest closer to my lips.

  This is our last day. I need to make the most of this experience. Getting naked outside, the ocean waves crashing in the distance, I need to revel in this.

  And so does Marina.

  Marina

  MY HUSBAND HAS the best mouth ever. A talented mouth too, which he’s currently using on me quite perfectly. I’m grinding against his hard cock as those talented lips suck and lick my nipples. If he keeps this up I’ll be coming in seconds, no joke.

  Our Caribbean honeymoon has far exceeded my expectations. I’d been secretly afraid of arriving an exhausted mess, wanting only to sleep the days away while Gage’s typical workaholism kicked in.

  But no. We’ve excessively indulged in each other sexually, we’ve relaxed, we’ve hung out at the pool and the beach, and we’ve eaten fine cuisine on a nightly basis.

  The sex, though . . . has been amazing. I feel more connected to this man than ever before. That Gage is my husband, the constant in my life, is both overwhelming and exhilarating.

  “Mmm, you taste good,” he murmurs against my skin, his lips moving over the tops of my breasts, licking and kissing my skin.

  I shiver when his fingers skim down my back so that his hand settles at the waistband of my bikini bottoms. “You feel good,” I whisper, a little sigh escaping me when he slips first one hand then the other beneath my bottoms and touches my naked flesh. He squeezes my backside and tugs me against him, his erection rubbing between my legs, driving me crazy. Unable to control myself, I lean forward, crashing my mouth on top of his.

  Our kiss is wild, frantic. Our tongues tangling as he works my bottoms off. I help him out, contorting my body in all sorts of awkward positions before I finally fling the skimpy fabric onto the deck. I love that we can make love so freely outside without worrying that others can see us. The suite offers us plenty of privacy, and Gage and I indulge outside every chance we can get.

  “You need to get naked,” I whisper once he breaks away from me to scatter damp kisses along my neck.

  “Help me out, wife,” he says, his voice rough with want.

  I comply, standing so I can tug his swim trunks off and tossing them close to where my bottoms lay. I sprawl out onto the lounger once more, lying between his legs, my lips right at his cock. Slowly I draw him deep between my lips, my gaze never leaving his as he watches me suck and lick him. His lids grow heavy and he reaches out, his fingers cradling my cheek.

  I could do this for hours. I get off getting him off, I swear. Never before have I received so much pleasure when I’m giving it to someone else. Only for Gage.

  He’s my everything.
/>   My everything is also incredibly impatient. He pushes me off him within minutes, growling about coming too fast, before hauling me into his arms as if I don’t weigh a thing. I’m back in the same position I was originally, only this time there’s no clothing separating us. I can feel him, thick and insistent, brushing against me and I shift my lower body, reaching down so I can grab hold of him by the base and guide him inside me.

  “Hold on,” he says, stopping me. “You touch me, and I’m afraid I’ll go off like a rocket.”

  I lean back so I can look him in the eyes. He’s dead serious. “Really?”

  “Really,” he says firmly as he wraps his fingers around his cock and brushes the head against my damp folds. I stifle a groan by biting my lips, and he stops the movement, depriving me.

  “Don’t stop,” I whisper and he presses his fingers against my mouth.

  “Don’t hold back then,” he says just before he resumes stroking me with his cock. Driving me crazy.

  A moan falls from my lips and finally he adjusts, so I can lower myself onto him. Slowly I take him inside, until he’s filling me completely, every inch of him inside of my body. Thick and pulsing, I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck, my hands buried in his hair as I clutch him close.

  He feels so unbelievably good. I’m afraid to move for fear my body will start convulsing, and I’ll come too before we’ve even started.

  “You’re so damn beautiful with the sun shining on your skin,” he says as he leans back against the cushions to watch me. I start to move at a languid pace, as if we have all the time in the world. My breasts sway with my every movement and he reaches out, circling his thumb around one nipple, then the other.

  Gage lets me have my way with him like he’s my plaything. Up and down, slow. Slower. Then I increase my pace, going fast. Faster. Until I’m practically bouncing in his lap, riding his cock as I strive toward my orgasm that hovers so close yet is still out of reach.

  “So . . . close . . .” I say as I move faster, leaning forward to get that friction I so desperately want that will help me come.

 

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