Sinners at the Altar (Page 60)

Rebekah cried out as her pussy squeezed him rhythmically, tugging hard at his jerking cock, intensifying his pleasure, drawing it out, making his entire body quake with unparalleled bliss.

She shuddered for several intense moments and then collapsed on top of him, still shaking with aftershocks of ecstasy. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and press her closer to his chest, but he couldn’t move his arms.

“I love you,” she whispered. “My sex-god husband.”

He grinned crookedly at her praise. “I owe that all to you.”

She giggled, her pussy tightening around his softening cock with the shake of her body. “I knew you had it in you. We just had to bring it out.”

“You bring it out tirelessly several times a day.”

“It’s a tough job…” She snorted and lifted her body from his to sit astride his hips. “Well, we’re married. It’s been consummated in the foyer. Now what? Watch TV?”

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Are you serious?”

She shrugged, but couldn’t hide the devious gleam in her pretty blue eyes. “Isn’t that what typical married couples do?”

“I refuse to be typical. And I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.” He was starting to feel the uncomfortableness of the hard floor. “You are going to take off that dress, and then we are going to bless every room in this house with an orgasm.”

Rebekah’s eyes widened. “There are six bedrooms.”

“And a kitchen. Dining room. Parlor. Living room. Conservatory. Four bathrooms.”

“Even you can’t come that many times in one night.”

“Mrs. Sticks, I didn’t say I was going to have an orgasm in every room, but one of us will.”

She leaned over to kiss him and then propped herself up with her hands on either side of his head to gaze into his eyes. “I think I’m going to like this game.”

He grinned. “Yes. Game. We’re currently tied one orgasm to one. He with the highest score by the end of the night gets breakfast in bed in the morning.”

“He with the highest score?” Rebekah shook her head slowly, sending soft blond locks caressing her flushed cheeks. “I think you mean she with the highest score. I’m planning to win this competition.”

Eric grinned. He actually planned to make her win, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “The game starts as soon as you’re naked.”

“You’re going to have to help me with that. I can’t reach the buttons.”

“I think I can manage,” he teased and winced as he struggled into a sitting position. His body protested the ache in his lower back. “I need to add a rule to this game,” he said.

“You can’t change the rules after it’s begun.”

“You aren’t naked yet, so it hasn’t begun.”

“Fine,” she said. “What’s the new rule?”

“No more fucking on the floor. At least not tonight.”

“But I can kneel on the floor, right?”

His cock twitched with interest as he pictured her kneeling at his feet while he drove his cock down her throat. “Only if you put a pillow beneath your knees.”

“Deal,” she said. “Now get this goddamned dress off me. I want to play.”

He wrapped his arms around her and unfastened the rest of the buttons at her back by feel. His lips moved across the warm skin of her throat and collarbones as the tiny pearls came free from their satin loops one pop at a time.

When he freed the last of the buttons, he splayed his hands over her smooth bare back and drew her naked breasts against his T-shirt. She pushed his tuxedo jacket from his shoulders and tugged at his T-shirt impatiently. Within moments they were naked and kissing, touching and groaning, but still in the foyer.

“Where next?” she asked eagerly, her eyes alight with adventure and longing and love.

Was it even possible to love someone as much as he loved her? Fuck, she was perfect.

He helped her to her feet before climbing to his own. He switched on the lights, took her hand, and led her into the chef’s kitchen. The large but country-cozy room glowed invitingly under the soft lighting.

“Welcome to our kitchen,” he said. “This is where I eat.”

“Don’t you eat in the dining room?” she asked.

“Formally. I’ll show you how I eat formally next.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she giggled. “But this is where I eat most of the time, because it’s quicker and more convenient. Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry for you, baby.”

“But are you hungry for food? We haven’t eaten all day.”

She scrunched up her forehead and covered her belly with both hands. “Now that you mention it… I guess I was so full of wedded bliss that I didn’t notice.”

Eric opened the refrigerator and hunted for something edible. There were still leftovers from his birthday feast. He went straight for the mostly demolished cake. “How does cake sound?”

“I thought maybe you’d prefer pie,” she said from behind him.

He turned and almost dropped the cake. She was sitting on the counter with her feet planted on the granite surface and her legs wide open. She rubbed at her clit with two fingers. “You want some? It’s not an ordinary pie. The more you eat it, the creamier it gets.”

He loved how his sweetheart of a wife could get raunchy without any provocation or warning. It was one of the things he liked best about her.

“That is one delicious-looking pie,” he said, his mouth watering with anticipation and his cock stirring with interest. He managed to regain his composure enough to carry the cake across the space between them and set it safely on the counter beside her.