Page 21 of His Runaway Valentine

Six years of marriage, and every time feels like the first time all over again.

Myeverydayvalentine.

My fingers tighten around her hair as I fuck her against the desk. I drop my fingers down to her clit and rub at the sensitive bud of nerves, chasing her pleasure with mine.

She comes first, her scream filling the office, and it’s a good thing I had the foresight to soundproof the place years ago. Her pussy clamps down on my cock, triggering my own orgasm, which sucks all air from my lungs.

“Oh, God! Rowan!” she breathes, her words barely comprehensible. “Do we…Anti-Valentine’s...”

“Approved,” I growl into her hair. “Your argument was very convincing.”

She chuckles, the sound rough as she’s yet to catch her breath, but it’s music to my ears.

Every second I spend with her is precious.

~The End