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“I’m gonna come, Minka.” He tugs my hair and grabs my hip, digging his fingers into my flesh and holding on. “Sit on my cock now, babe.”
I shake my head and squeeze my hand around his shaft, crushing his length and lapping him up.
“Minka!” He smacks me again, and yet, he cries out. We’ve come too far, and he’s powerless to stop me. “Ah fuck!” He bruises my thigh and releases my hair so he can hold my hip with the other. He shoves up from the mattress, his feet stretching against the floor and his cock filling my mouth.
Then he bursts. Hot, slick cum sliding along my throat while the man makes the sexiest, most tantalizing sounds I’ve ever heard come from his mouth. He’s always so in charge. He demands it. So undoing him, stealing from him and bathing in his surrender creates a brand-new pleasure for me. I vow to try again. And again. And again.
I milk him until his groans turn to a pant. Until the taut muscle in his thighs lets go, and the grip he has on my hips loosens. Then I release hiscock from my lips and climb across his broad form. I turn and twist, swallowing his cum down and licking my lips as I move. I’m cautious with my knees, careful not to accidentally dig them in to his relaxed form, then I sit on his lap, and since he’s too relaxed to stop me, I fist his still-hard cock and slide down over top until we both whimper.
“Now we can fuck.” I roll my hips and close my eyes when ecstasy becomes all I know. When pleasure ripples in my blood and a fresh new release teases every nerve ending I possess. “Jesus, this feels good.”
“Mmmm…” He’s damn near comatose. A willing victim as I ride his cock and take my pleasure.
“I love you, Archer.” I press my hands to his chest, hooking my finger in the wedding band that rests over his heart. “This year,” I pant, rolling my hips. “Next year. And every other for the next eighty.”
His eyes snap open. Energy pulsing in his expression and his lips curling higher. Then he tosses me, body and soul, until my back hits the bed and my hair flips up a second time. Then he follows, grabbing my leg and folding it up until my knee almost touches my chin. “To the next eighty years.” He slams deep inside me, filling me up and stopping only when his hipbone crashes against my ass. “I can’t wait to fuck your saggy, hundred-year-old cunt.”
“Archer!” Laughing, I throw my head back and attempt to shove him off. “You ruined it!”
“Nah.” He hooks his hand around my shoulder, pulling me down while he shoves forward. “Come for me again, Minka. Squeeze my cock like you do with your lips.”
ARCHER
We used our thirty minutes the way we know how. Wasting none and bringing each other to completion more than a few times. Married life fucking rocks, because I know how to make the delectable Doctor Mayet scream my name in a matter of minutes, and fuck, she knows how to bewitch me with just a look.
A word.
A crook of her finger.
Thirty minutes ended with the apartment door opening and my baby brother waltzing in noisy enough to announce his arrival. A plastic bag rustling. The smell of Chinese food wafting along the hall. Which led to Minka jumping off my cock and scrambling into just enough clothes to make her trek to the bathroom decent.
Which led to her running away, and me, doomed to greeting my brother with her release still coating my dick and the taste of her sweet pussy on my tongue.
Not that I tell him that sort of stuff.
We ate our dinner and talked about dead bodies the way we’re apt to do. We discussed college and the classes Cato issupposedto attend—as opposed to the classes hedoesattend, which are rarely the kind that’ll count toward his degree—and around ten o’clock, I found myself back in bed.
With my freshly showered wife riding me once more. But that time was quieter. Gentler. As Copeland City lights illuminated our bedroom windowand created a halo around her perfect form, we brought a new day to an end the way we both need.
The way we choose.
And soon, we’ll do it with New York City lights silhouetting her body.
Or at least, that was the plan.
My phone vibrates against the bedside table,buzz, buzz, buzzingon the hardwood furniture and dragging me out of my sleep. And though my subconscious fights it, the incessant sound saws into my sleeping brain as though a chainsaw was tearing up the space beside my ear.
“Phone,” mostly asleep, Minka rumbles and turns on the bed, snuggling into her pillow and smacking her lips. “Still quiet time.”
“Fuck.” I peel my eyes open and begrudge the way it feels like I dunked them in sand first. Then I turn just my head, searching for the flashing light from the device to lead my way. I snag the stupid phone and check the screen, spying Fletch’s name. Then scowling, I glance at the time in the top right corner and groan at the unfairness.
Swiping to answer, I bring the device to my ear, while with my other arm, I scoop my wife’s succulent body closer and force her to snuggle.That pillow didn’t earn her love. “It’s four-thirty, Fletcher. What the fuck, man?”
“We have a new D.B.,” he sighs. Unlike me, he’s already moving. Already dressed and preparing to run out the door. “Cowper Street, over by that deli we sometimes go to.”
“It’s four-thirty,” I repeat on a growl. “We already have an open. Why the hell are they tossing us another case?”
“Different body. Same case.” He opens his front door and whispers, “Thanks, Deena. Just head on over to the couch and go back to sleep, sweet pea. I appreciate you coming up at this hour.”
