by Anne Lange
Delight filled her. Finally, they were getting somewhere.
“Ew. That floor was dirty, Mitch. That would have been kind of gross.”
He chuckled. “You were the one on your knees under the table.”
“Yes, and now I have to disinfect my shins.”
“We’ll shower later.”
“Later?”
“Mmm-hmm. Right now I’m pretty sure I have a favor to return.” He nibbled her bottom lip, then sucked it in between his teeth.
She heard a door slam somewhere down the hall and voices heading in their direction. She and Mitch stared at each other. She wondered what he saw in hers. His were stormy. Hot. Swirling with desire. A look she hadn’t seen in weeks. Door number three was the good bet after all.
“Take off your clothes.” He stepped away.
“You first.”
He smirked. “How about we do it at the same time?”
“Okay.” She crossed her arms over her chest, gripped the hem of her cotton sweater and yanked it up and over her head. She tossed it to the floor, near where her suitcase lay spread open, her clothing a jumbled mess from earlier when she’d rifled through her options of what to wear.
Mitch removed his shirt and tossed it on the floor. He toed off his shoes and dropped his pants on top of his shirt. She had a difficult time concentrating on removing her own clothes when she had such a magnificent view of his chest.
“I love you in yellow.” He nodded toward her top, refocusing her attention on the task at hand. “But I love that pretty yellow bra even better. The tiny white polka dots are cute.” Too bad she hadn’t worn the matching thong. Though his surprise at seeing her bare was well worth it.
She shimmed her skirt down over her hips. “You like all the underwear I have.”
“I have great taste.”
She got a kick out of how much her husband loved to lingerie shop for her. He insisted she wear matching sets, and often surprised her with something new. She’d bet she had more undergarments than most women had shoes.
“Did you leave the matching thong at home?”
She shifted her right hip out, placed her right hand on it, and cocked her head at him. “No, but if my plan tonight went well, I didn’t want you ripping it off.”
He grinned, but it wasn’t a humorous expression. It was more of what she thought an animal lying in wait might look like—one ready to pounce on its prey.
“Good point. I paid a lot of money for those.” He winked. “Then again, I could just go out and buy you more.”
Serena reached behind and undid the clasp of her bra, allowing the cups to fall away and the straps to slide down her arms. She tossed it on the growing pile of their clothes.
Her husband licked his lips. Was that a growl she heard?
“Do you want to lie on the bed? Or do you want me to toss you on it?”
Oh.
“You mean there are choices?” She winked at him.
“Yes, and there’s also a time limit on the decision-making process.”
She couldn’t help but laugh.
“Three.”
“Mitch.”
“Two.”
“Honey.”
“One.”
She jumped on the bed, dropped and rolled to her back.
He followed, crawling on his hands and knees, his biceps bulging and rolling with each movement forward.
“Your arm?”
“Never mind my arm.” His heavy breathing sounded harsh in the otherwise quiet room. The bed frame squeaked under his weight. Serena watched him prowl over her. He stopped when he’d caged her in. She looked directly up into his glittering eyes.
“Um.” She blinked, taking in the serious expression on his face. “Hon?”
Mitch swooped down and claimed her mouth, kissing her hard. Driving his tongue into her mouth to dance with hers. This was a man she hadn’t seen in quite some time. And when had their sex life become…not boring, but predictable?
When he finally pulled away, she was gasping for air but willing to go without if only he’d kiss her like that again.
He nipped her lower lip, her chin, and nudged her head to the side so he could plant kisses down the column of her neck. He stopped when he got to her ticklish spot and sucked. She squirmed beneath him, simultaneously loving and hating the sensation.
He continued on his path until he topped the swell of her right breast. Then he paused, and reared back to look down at her. He flicked his tongue over her hard nipple. Then he licked it. Back and forth, he played with each pebbled bud, smiling as they hardened beneath his touch. He captured them between his teeth, stretched them taut, almost to the point of pain but released them, kissed them, then covered them with his hot mouth. Sometimes he paid homage to one at a time, then he’d squeeze her breasts together and tackle both at the simultaneously.
His lips were moist, the suction sweet enough to arch her spine off the bed. She grasped the sides of his head, tangled her fingers in his hair, and held him in place.
Serena moaned. Mitch increased the suction. Oh, God. She tugged on his hair, encouraging him to continue pleasuring her. He lavished both breasts with equal treatment. While he played with one, holding her nipple pressed tight to the roof of his mouth, he tweaked and teased the other with his fingers, until they ached with pleasure.
Finally, he moved his torture to her stomach, following a wandering trail down to her belly button, where he twirled his tongue in her navel, swirling it around, dipping it in with firm jabs. He shifted his big body down the bed, never removing his mouth from her flesh. When he settled between her outstretched and spread thighs, she held her breath. He stopped kissing her, opened her wide with his thumbs and just looked at her.
She needed air.
“You know, babe, maybe I should have done this at the bar. I wonder how you would have liked having me eat your pussy while a group of strangers sat at their tables drinking their beers or danced just a few feet away from you? Would you have been able to keep quiet? Not let anyone know what I was doing to you?”
He traced one finger along her slit. “You’re nice and wet. I wonder how you taste?” He pushed a long, thick finger into her hole, pumped it in and out a few times then brought it to his lips. He sucked it clean, slurping her juice from the digit. “Mmm. Nice.”
He stuck his finger deep inside her again. This time when he pulled it out, he brought it to her lips. “Here, have a taste.”
He rubbed along her bottom lip. She opened her mouth, darting her tongue out to lick it. He plunged his finger inside. She sucked it, tasting her salty essence.
He groaned. “That’s fucking hot, Serena.”
“What would be hotter is if you’d use that wicked tongue of yours on me.”
Her husband chuckled. “I thought I’d wrestled control of this game from you.”
“You can try.”
He gifted her with a very naughty wink and lowered his head. Mitch licked his wife’s sweet pussy, pressed his tongue to the wet flesh and dragged it up the entire length, gathering her tangy juices along the way, swallowing them when he reached the top then went back for more.
He nibbled on her lips. He tongued her hole, poking as deep as he could go. When he pressed a kiss to her clit, she groaned and melted into the mattress. When he sucked it into his mouth, she almost shot off the bed.
He knew every trick to get her off. Sadly, he hadn’t used any of them lately. And for that, he was sorry. He needed to apologize to her. He just had to find the words.
Mitch whirled his tongue through her wetness. Her scent filled his nostrils, driving him out of his mind, making his cock so hard he figured it might just dig a trench in the bed. She wiggled beneath him. He used his hands to still her bucking hips as he ate her voraciously, hungry for his wife, the person he loved most in the world and he’d not truly seen for weeks. He knew he’d hurt her feelings when he’d told her he was taking to the road rather than stay at home during his recovery.
It’s not that he couldn’t make the trip. He didn’t want to face his wife and know that he’d let her down. Fuck, he still didn’t know why she was really here.
“Mitch?”
He paused and lifted his head.
“You okay? You seemed to get a little distracted there.”
He cleared his throat and forced this mental dialog back to the beautiful woman spread out like a feast beneath him. “Just contemplating how I’m going to fuck you.”
“I didn’t realize it took that much thought.”
“You just focus on what I’m doing with my tongue, then I’ll show you.”
Mitch put his all into bringing his wife to an orgasm that she deserved after the treat she’d given him at the bar. He lapped at her cunt, flicked his tongue over her clit, then flattened his tongue and wiggled it back and forth.
Serena moaned. “That feels so good.”
He smiled and hummed. She jumped. Knowing what would push her over the edge, he dug in with a continuous flick over that sensitive bundle of nerves, then every few strokes brushing the flat of his tongue over her hole, teasing her with the possibility of entry.
“Oh… Oh.”
She lifted her hips. He flicked faster. She spread her arms out to the sides and fisted the comforter. He licked faster, like racing to keep up with a melting ice cream cone. Serena spread her legs wide, opening herself farther, his cue that she was close. She angled her body, trying to get his touch exactly where she needed it. He followed the movement of her hips—giving her more.
Suddenly her delicious juice began to spill. She bucked. She pumped her hips and flattened her hand on the top of his head, simultaneously trying to hold him near and push him away. More liquid escaped as her orgasm rolled over her. She arched her back, pressed her head into the pillow. He glanced up in time to see her eyes roll back. She had her bottom lip pinched between her teeth.
Oh, fuck yeah.
When she finally slumped into the bed, he slowed, applied less pressure and pressed gentle kisses to her tender and sensitive flesh before he backed away and rose over her. Her eyes, dark pools of lust, stared up at him. She parted her lips and ran her tongue over them.
“Fuck me, Mitch.”
Mitch grasped her legs, lifted them high and along his chest to rest on his shoulders, her ankles next to his ears. He fell forward, his arms caging her in and holding his weight. His bad arm trembled, but he gritted his teeth and pressed forward anyway, pushing his cock into her, plunging deep on the first go.
After too many days without his woman wrapped in his arms, he knew he wasn’t going to last. His shoulder screamed, but it didn’t matter. He needed this. He needed her. He’d be damned if he couldn’t make love to his wife.
Mitch thrust his hips, in and out, going as deep as possible on every entry, drawing almost all the way out on every retreat. He alternated with some short, shallow jabs. Then a few long, solid thrusts and he felt his climax building. His balls ached. His cock strained. Sweat trickled down his cheek.
Serena reached for his nipples. She rubbed them, dancing her fingertips over the tops. She bit her bottom lip when they turned rigid under her touch. Then she tweaked them, hard. He groaned. Jesus, he loved having his nipples played with.
Mitch rammed home. He pumped hard, deep and fast. As he neared his peak, his thrusts became shallow again, awkward while he worked to maintain a rhythm and his arm began to weaken. Her pussy clung to him. She sucked him in and didn’t want to let go. He dragged himself out to let her pull him in again. Faster. Harder. God, faster again. Then, nice and deep.
He clenched his teeth. Serena lifted her hips, meeting his thrusts. The walls of her vagina hugged him. Squeezed him tight.
“Oh, Mitch.”
He shifted the slightest bit, trying to remove some of the weight from his bad arm, so he could rub against her clit with each move.
“Yes. Oh, God. That’s it. So good.”
Mitch turned frantic, plunging into her depths as his balls tightened. He growled and lowered his head to capture Serena’s lips in a scorching kiss just as his cum shot out of his cock and filled her up. Hot jets rushed from him and into her.
His arms shook. Pain ripped through his shoulder. Serena clutched at his biceps, pressing her pelvis to his, and he held himself still while she rode out her own pleasure.
When she dropped her arms like noodles to her sides, Mitch lowered over her dewy body, grunted and shoved his nose into the side of her neck. He inhaled the faint floral scent of her perfume, sweat and sex. His wife. He pressed a kiss just behind her ear before he withdrew completely and lowered her legs.
“Come here,” she whispered, in her rough after-sex voice.
He dropped his chest to hers, letting her bear his weight for a moment.
She wrapped her arms around him. He tucked his under the back of her head.
“I love you, Mitch.”
He kissed her. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
She squeezed him. “Thank you for not being mad at me.”
He canted his head back and looked down at her flushed face. “Why would I be mad?”
She dropped her lashes, hiding her eyes from him. She shrugged. “You weren’t expecting me. And I wasn’t sure if you’d like my surprise.”
He chuckled. “It was a nice surprise. Who wouldn’t like that kind of surprise?”
She laughed. “Well, I hope you like what else I have in mind.”
He rolled away from her. “I guess maybe we should talk. Because, you know, I can’t stay here. I may be sitting out a few games, but I’m not on vacation.”
She was nodding. “I know. All I’m asking for is some of your time after the game.”
He shifted to the edge of the bed and stood, but his bruised knee chose that moment to give. Mitch stumbled, throwing out his injured arm to catch himself before he hit the floor, which didn’t appreciate it after the workout he’d just given it. He couldn’t smother the hiss of pain that escaped through his teeth.
Serena yelped and jumped up to grab him. “Mitch. Oh, my God. Are you okay?”
Fuck no, he wasn’t okay.
Chapter Seven
Serena scrambled to assist Mitch. She grasped his arm and helped him back to the bed. “I thought you just bruised your shoulder or something. It’s not that simple, is it?” She tried to catch the look in his eyes, but he avoided her gaze. His cheeks were flushed.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not fine, Mitch. Please, tell me what’s going on.”
“I need to get back to the hotel. Curfew’s coming up.”
“You need to tell me what the hell is wrong. A simple muscle strain or a bruise doesn’t cause both your leg and your arm to collapse out from under you.”
Tears threatened when her husband turned away, stood and limped over to where his clothes lay strewn across the floor. With one hand braced against the credenza holding the television, he bent to retrieve his pants and shirt. She noticed he held his other arm, his passing arm, tucked close to his chest. Re-dressed, he dropped onto the end of the bed to put on his socks and shoes. Serena snagged her robe she’d laid over the back of the guest chair. When she spun around, her husband was already making his way to the door.
“Mitch.”
He stopped and dropped his head.
“Talk to me. Please.”
His big shoulders rose and fell twice before he slowly turned to face her. When he finally lifted his head, she moved closer to him, within breathing space, needing to look into his face, read his thoughts through his expressions and figure out what the hell was going on in his head that he thought he had to keep an injury as bad as this appeared to be from her. He’d been hurt before. He’d be hurt again. Football was a rough sport and in his position, he was tackled often enough that she had almost stopped flinching through every one.
He licked his lips, looking contrite. Then anger passed over his face before resignation stayed behind for a moment, followed by d
etermination settling in to take a solid stance.
“A few weeks ago, I took a hard hit and dislocated my shoulder. It’s happened a few more times since. That tackle last week twisted my knee pretty bad, but that’s nothing. It’s my arm everyone is worried about.”
“How bad?”
He shrugged. She shifted and tapped his chin, forcing him to look at her.
“How bad?” she ground out.
He pinched his lips tight and briefly closed his eyes. “Bad enough they’ve benched me.”
“I know that. But then what? You told me you had to work with a trainer for a few weeks.”
He nodded. “Yeah. The team doctor also insists I see a therapist.”
“So, you’ll rest up, work out the kinks, and you’ll be back on the field.”
“That’s the plan.” He dropped his gaze again.
“You think it’s more serious.”
“Look, honey, I really need to go.” He made a point of checking his watch. “If I don’t get back, Coach will be pissed. I may not be playing, but the restrictions still apply.”
“And I’ll be pissed if you don’t tell me the truth.”
He leaned down and brushed a kiss over her lips. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist, tugged her against him, and deepened their connection, licking his tongue over her lips and inside her mouth. When he had finished devouring her, she was breathless, but not stupid. Her husband was avoiding her.
He smacked one more kiss on her moist lips. “Gotta go.” Then he turned and strode down the short hallway to the door. “Will I see you in Seattle?”
She gritted her teeth, trying like the devil not to stomp her foot and demand that her husband stay and fill in the details he so aptly ignored. But judging by the firm set of his jaw and the look in his eyes, she wasn’t getting any more information out of him tonight.
Fine. “Yes. I’ll be there.”
His eyes twinkled. “Any chance I’ll get a repeat of tonight?”
“Not telling. I’ll send you a text on where and when to meet me, though.”