ATHENA
“I don't think we really need to be there so early.” My husband pulls me back in bed, making me giggle.
I love that he always wants to have me to himself.
“Yes we do. We also have to get up.” I remind him, but he simply groans and buries his head in my neck while placing his heavy arm on my stomach, pinning me in.
“Let's wake up a little later. I've missed my wife.”
His voice is low, gravelly, and too intoxicating for my barely awake brain to fight.
Alex’s breath is warm against my skin, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just beneath my jaw. I try to be responsible, really, I do, but how am I supposed to think when he’s touching me like this?
“Alex…” I murmur, trying to sound firm, but it comes out breathy and soft.
He smirks against my neck.
He knows exactly what he’s doing. His hand slides beneath the hem of his shirt. The one I slept in, his fingers grazing my bare thigh like it’s a secret he’s savoring.
“I love it when you wear this,” he murmurs, nudging the fabric higher. “But I love it even more when you’re not wearing anything at all.”
“You’re impossible,” I whisper, threading my fingers through his hair as he kisses a path down to my collarbone.
He lifts his head, those green eyes locking onto mine with that slow-burning fire that makes my heart race.
“What do we have here, dear wife? No panties, hmmm?” He asks as he cups me, his fingers pressing into my heat.
I gasp, my hips twitching instinctively into his hand. I can’t think straight when he touches me like this or when he looks at me like I’m the only thing in his world worth his attention.
“I was tired,” I whisper, weakly defending myself, though we both know it’s a lie.
“Mmm.” His smirk deepens. “Or maybe you just wanted me to wake up and find you like this. Dripping and bare like a fucking naughty little wife.”
His fingers slide between my folds,
“You’re soaked, baby. You sure you want to leave this bed?”
“Alex…”
He slides a finger inside me, then another, curling them expertly. “That doesn’t sound like no.”
I arch against his hand, my thighs parting on their own. He kisses me and not in a soft or sweet way. He's possessive with the kiss like a starved man.
He kisses me like he owns my mouth just as much as he owns my body, and I give in because I do belong to him.
His fingers move faster, and I whimper into his kiss.
“Always so tight,” he groans into my neck. “So perfect. So fucking mine.”
He pulls his fingers out and lifts them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan like I’m his favorite taste.
Then, with a fluid movement, he flips me onto my back, spreading my legs wide and crawling between them, the heat of his body pressing down on me in the most delicious way.
“You think I’m letting you leave this villa without making you scream my name?” he growls.
“I think…” I try to catch my breath, but it escapes me again when his cock presses against my entrance, thick and throbbing. “You’re already making me late.”
He grins wickedly. “Let’s make it worth then.”
He thrusts in hard, burying himself to the hilt, and I cry out as my back arches off the bed. He fills me so perfectly and stretches me just right like my body was made to take him.
“Fuck, you feel even tighter in the morning,” he mutters, his hips rocking into mine. “Like this pussy’s been waiting for me all night.”
I moan as he begins to move, his pace slow but deep, grinding into that spot that makes my toes curl.
“You love this, don’t you?” he rasps. “Being fucked before breakfast. Being ruined before you’ve even had coffee.”
“Yes,” I gasp, clinging to his shoulders. “Oh yes! yes! Don’t stop.”
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