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Authors: Ana E Ross

BOOK: B00CQUPUKW EBOK
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“I’m at the country club with Michelle.  We came in for an impromptu spa day.”

Bryce smiled.  There was nothing impromptu about her visit to the country club.  He’d commissioned Michelle to take her in for a manicure, a pedicure, a full-body massage—the works, from head to toe.  He wanted her completely relaxed and feeling lovely, desirable, and special tonight—well, today now.  “What time will you be done?”

“We’re actually finished.  We were just enjoying a cup of herbal tea before we leave.  I have to pick up Alyssa from ballet.  Haley dropped her off but Anastasia is asleep and she can’t leave home.  And Jason has karate after school.”

“It’s all been taken care of,” Bryce said.  

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Libby is on her way to pick up Alyssa.  I’ve arranged for a car for Jason.  It will take him to karate then home.  Libby will stay at the house with Haley and the kids until you get back.”

“Back from where?  Bryce, what’s going on?”  Panic edged her voice.  

“Nothing to worry about, darling.  I just need to see you alone.  We need to talk without the distraction of the kids or anyone else.” 

“Yeah, I guess we do have some issues to discuss, but I thought we would talk after dinner tonight, if we’re not busy doing other things.”

Bryce smiled at the hope in her voice.  He did promise her that tonight they would finish what he’d started in the kitchen this morning.  “It can’t wait that long.  Our issues need to be addressed as soon as possible.  I found myself free this afternoon.”

“Oh, okay.  You want to meet somewhere?  I drove over with Michelle, but she can drop me off wherever you want.  I can come to your office.”

“There’s a car outside waiting to take you to my penthouse.  I want you to go up and wait for me.  Can you do that?”

“Your penthouse?” 

The skepticism in her voice was apropos since she’d never been to his penthouse.  Until three days ago, he wasn’t ready to share that part of himself with her.  His penthouse was where he communed with the ghost of his late wife.  He’d never taken a woman there before.

But Kaya was not just any woman.  She was his wife.  And if he wanted their marriage to work, he had to share all of himself with her, even Pilar’s ghost.  “Yes, my penthouse.”

“Okay.”

Bryce took one last sniff of the panties and stifled the groan that lodged in his throat.  
Has she missed them at all
? he wondered.  He had to make sure to snatch a fresh pair.  “I’ll see you soon, Kaya,” he said, returning the lacy underwear to his pocket.

“Okay.  We’ll talk soon.”

Bryce chuckled after he hung up.  Yep, they’ll be doing a lot of talking, but not with words.  Bryce walked to the huge mahogany desk in the middle of his spacious office and placed his phone on it.  He shrugged out of his suit jacket and threw it over the back of his chair. On his way to the bathroom adjoining his office, he began loosening his tie and belt.

He didn’t want to waste time showering once he got to the penthouse.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Bryce opened the door of his dimly lit penthouse to the sensual sounds of soft music floating from the surround sound stereo, and the earthy aroma from pillars of burning candles spicing the air.

He stepped inside and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of his wife leaning against the back of the sofa—one black stiletto-clad foot, slightly bent, one hand resting seductively on her thigh, and the other holding a juicy red strawberry, dipped in whipped cream close to her half-opened mouth.  Her curly brown hair fell like a mystical curtain down the sides of her lovely face, grazing her shoulders, and hugging the curve of her back.  Her eyes were wide and luminous, and full of enchantment and expectation.

“Don’t move,” he ordered when she made an attempt to straighten up.  “And don’t talk,” he added when she opened her mouth to speak.

She settled down obediently, but not before she brought the strawberry to her mouth and closed her succulent lips around half of it, a wicked smile flashing in her eyes as she brought her hand seductively to rest against her voluptuous cleavage, spilling over the pink lacy bodice of her outfit.  She was glowing.

Bryce swore he would have come in his pants if he hadn’t recently taken a cold shower.  He’d been anticipating this moment; he’d left orders for her to follow, and she’d obeyed.  
Good girl
.  But God, he didn’t expect her to look this freaking tempting and irresistible like a centerfold lingerie model straight out of the latest issue of Victoria’s Secret.  Bryce didn’t know Kaya was the first thing he would see when he came home, much less find her standing in such a provocative pose.  She must have asked the front desk to let her know when he arrived.  His little recently deflowered bride was staging for him.

He loved it!

She made an erotic picture as she stood there, clad in the sexy lingerie he’d left on the bed for her to wear—innocent and sinful all at the same time, he thought, admiring the soft curves of her brown body through the silky black mesh that made up the lower half of the garment.  The shapely beauty of her near-nakedness taunted him.  He knew well the full weight of her firm young breasts in the palms of his hands, the smooth texture of her broad areolas and the hard knob of her brown crusted nipples against his tongue, and the sleek sensation of her moist heat opening for him like a morning flower opens its petals to the magic of the sun for the first time.

He quivered at the thought of running his hands up her smooth legs to the sensitive area between her thighs, hooking his fingers in the thin strip of lace running along her delicate hips and pulling her panties down her thighs to her dainty little ankles.

Knowing his wife’s copious reservoir of love juices, Bryce could bet that the crotch of that thong was already soaked.  Oh yeah, he was keeping those.

He dropped his keys on the table next to the door and shoved out of his jacket, letting it drop behind him.  Without taking his eyes off of Kaya, he hastily stripped off his clothes and tossed them in a pile on the floor near the door.  When he pulled down his briefs, his sex sprung out with an excited slap against his stomach.  He heard Kaya’s intake of air into her lungs.  Bryce couldn’t remember ever being this hard.  It was pleasurably painful, and there was only one thing that would stop that ache.

He advanced slowly into the room, his eyes taking in the numerous bouquets of flowers placed strategically about, the red and beige velvet drapes hanging from the windows, blocking out the rain and the world, and the oversized decorated pillows strewn along the floor.  A trail of red rose petals began at the foot of the short flight of stairs and extended up to the second floor.

The hotel crew had done an exceptional job preparing the place, and he was sure the bedroom was as romantically decorated as humanly possible.  Bryce’s eyes caught the red stage and ramp on the floor in front of the burning fireplace—all set and ready for action.  Because of his and Kaya’s huge differences in stature, he’d requested that two sets of sexual position aids be delivered—one for the downstairs and one for the bedroom.  He doubted they would make it that far.  

Finally, he stopped in front of his wife, her entrancing eyes twinkling with mischief as she gazed up at him with half of the whipped cream-covered strawberry sticking out of her mouth.  “You look ravishing.”

She made a guttural sound in her throat, halfway between a moan and a chuckle.

He picked her up, and hoisting up her gown to her waist, he sat her on the back of the sofa.  He settled his body between her parted thighs, his hands pressed into the small of her back. He opened his mouth over hers and bit into the portion of red strawberry extending from her lips. Their lips stayed glued together and their tongues worked in unison as they consumed the piece of fruit, chewing, giving, taking, and swallowing in an oral mating dance until there was nothing but warm breath left between them. 

“That was delicious,” Bryce said against her lips, savoring the tastes of strawberry, whipped cream and woman on his tongue—tangy, sweet, smooth, wet, and hot.  While exploring the soft lines of her back, her waist, and hips, Bryce closed his eyes and nuzzled his nose in the hollow of her neck, breathing in the intoxicating smell of her skin and reveling in the enhanced ultra-silkiness caused by the lingering traces of massage oil.  She felt like warm honey under his palm, and for the first time in years, Bryce felt truly blessed.

“And this?” she asked, wrapping her legs around his waist and turning her head slightly to reclaim his mouth as if it belonged to her and she had every right in the world to it.  She kissed him deeply and possessively, spurting a hunger in his belly that awakened every single nerve cell in his body.  He felt like a helpless log tossed carelessly into a fiery furnace.

Bryce groaned as Kaya hooked her arms under his and began to massage his neck and shoulders with enthusiastic strokes of her hands.  As her mouth moved under his, she worked her way down his sides and back, using her palms and her fingertips to blaze a trail of desire down his body.  It was the first time she’d fondled him, and he loved the sensations she created in him.

He shivered in her embrace when her hands came to rest on the hill of his buttocks.  He groaned as she molded his cheeks in her hands then raked her fingernails over him.  Who had taught his inexperienced bride such wantonness? Bryce wondered as his erection, trapped between their stomachs, throbbed with anticipation and need.

A moan of ecstasy slipped through her lips, and he eased his body a hair’s breadth away from hers, raised his head, and stared into her eyes.  Her pupils were dilated, her lips quivering in barley contained desire, her face frozen in a hypnotic state.

“You look exquisite in this, but it’s gotta go.”  He bunched the mesh of her gown in his fist and she extended her hands above her head for him to pull it off.  He tossed it on the sofa and his eyes feasted on her alluring figure clad in nothing but stilettos and a black thong.  His hands returned to the small of her back.  “Touch me,” he said as his sex pulsed restlessly against his stomach.

She licked her lips as her hands trailed lightly around the sides of his body toward his belly.  Bryce felt lust ripple through his chest as her fingers brushed against the hard length of him.  He sucked in his breath when she touched the sensitive tip with the pad of her thumb.

“You like that?” she asked, staring up at him with the most incredibly sexy bedroom eyes he’d ever seen.

He swallowed in an attempt to control his breathing as she used her fingertips to lubricate the broad head with the pearly liquid that oozed out of him.

“It’s so hard and hot,” she rasped, rubbing her palm up and down the length of him like an unsure child—gently, lightly, tentatively, yet so amazingly rousing.  “So huge and strong and beautiful.”

No woman had ever called him beautiful.

He held his breath and dropped his gaze as her hand attempted to close around him.  Wasn’t even close.  She moaned and dropped her gaze as her other hand joined the first.  She still was unable to cover the girth and length of him with her hands stacked up on each other.

Bryce watched in fascination as his massive sex throbbed in her small hands, the veins running the length and width of him so engorged with blood, they appeared as big as her slender fingers trying to span him.  Her jungle-red fingernails only served to escalate his desire.  An elemental need to conquer her, control her, and pillage her raced through him. 

She gazed upward, imploring him with her exotic eyes as she slid her hands up and down him, around and around, squeezing and testing the weight and strength of him. 

“Kaya.”  Fire shot through his system and as his ache for her deepened, Bryce thrust against her hands, encouraging her, teaching her how to stroke him, and soon she found his cadence, using her hands interchangeably to play him like a flute—lightly, softly, urgently—short-circuiting his senses.

An incessant must-have-it-right-now hunger rolled through Bryce.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

With his breath racing out of control, Bryce placed his hand on Kaya’s, staying her, and stepped back, pulling himself from her grasp.  “I’m not wasting it in your hands, baby,” he said when her eyes clouded with confusion. 

He gazed at her sexy mouth, opened in awe and passion like a freshly cut peach.  He longed for the thrill of that mouth sucking him, the nip of her dainty white teeth grazing him, and the tickle of her little pink tongue licking him, but that kind of pleasure would have to come after he soaked himself in the heat of Kaya’s essence, feel her soft female flesh stretching to take all of him.  
Deep
.  “It’s time, love.  I must have you now or die.”

Her eyes glazed with desire and lust.  “I want you inside me.  I want to love you, and I want you to love me, right here.”  She hooked a finger into the crotch of her thong and pulled it back with one hand, exposing herself to his view.  “I’m not afraid of you, Bryce,” she said, pushing a finger of the other hand inside herself and moving it back and forth.  
Slowly
.

“Whoa.”  It was the most erotic sight Bryce Fontaine had ever seen.  His knees buckled.  With one arm along her back for support, he reached down with the other and pulled the leg of her thong wider.  He dropped to his knees and buried his face between her thighs.  “No, put it back in,” he rasped as she pulled her finger out.  “Now, leave it there.”

With a moan, she kicked off her stilettos.  They fell with soft thuds on the carpet behind him.  She raised one leg and planted her heel on the back of the sofa, draped the other over his shoulder and reinserted her finger.  
Wait.
 The knuckles of two fingers disappeared inside her heat.  She clasped her free hand to the back of his head and began to stroke herself like a nymph who’d pleasured herself a million times before.

The clicking sounds of her fingers entering and retreating from her body was enough to drive Bryce mad.  He dropped quivering little kisses on the insides of her thighs, holding her in place with his strong hands as she began to tremble from the effect of her fingers and his lips.  When the rhythm of her strokes increased and her breathing grew more erratic, Bryce angled his head around her working hand.  He closed his mouth on her scented heat, specifically on her little swollen bud, and proceeded to enjoy his wife, alternating his devotion between licking, blowing, and kissing her until she threw her head back and screamed.

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