Page 26 of Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 3)
This gives Bernadette pause and she moves her arm away from her face to look at me.
“What?” she asks, panting, her beautiful thighs spread open for me. “Victor, don’t fuck around with me. You obviously don’t use condoms. You have never used a condom with me.”
“With you,” I repeat, looking her dead in the face. She has to know I would never blow my load in another girl. Not a chance in hell I’d put myself in the position Hael was in—despite his protests that he did use condoms with Brittany. But with Bernie … I’d love a baby. Maybe two or three. Maybe four. Maybe five.
“Fuck off,” she snaps, face flushing as she tries to kick at me. Too bad for her that I’m stronger, my muscles clenching as I hold her in place and she groans. “Vic, stop that. We’re already married; you can cut the crap.”
“No.” The word cracks the room like thunder. “You are the only girl I have ever fucked bareback. You tell me you heard me, or I’ll finish myself off in the bathroom with some Jergens and a tight fist.”
Bernie lets out a little scream of frustration as I drop my mouth back down between her legs, tongue flicking out to tease her clit.
“I heard you, okay?” she whispers, voice cracking. “I heard you.”
“Good.”
This time, when I go back to using my mouth on her cunt, it’s a full-on assault. I run my tongue from her taint to her clit and back again, nice and slow. She digs her fingers in my hair and tries to pull me up toward her, as if this is some kind of chore.
This is me-time, motherfucker.
Only a complete and utter moron would refuse his queen’s sweet heat. There’s a reason I hate the rapper DJ Khaled and it’s not just because his music sucks. Publicly announcing you don’t go down on women? Either you’re gay as hell—which is fine—or you’re a fucking idiot.
I chuckle and Bernadette groans, writhing as I suck her clit into my mouth. She accepts two fingers inside of her nice and easy, thrusting her hips in time with the rhythm of my hand. I work them in and out, enjoying the sight of her glistening juices against my tattoos. My lips tease her clit at the same time, increasing the gentle pulse of her body on my fingers.
When she comes, her entire body tightens up beneath my firm grip, her muscles squeezing my fingers. She isn’t shy about it when she cries out, raking her fingers through her hair as her back arches. Before Bernie even gets a chance to take a breath or relax, I'm sliding up and over her, removing my fingers from inside of her and then yanking down the top of her dress to expose the pale mounds of her breasts.
The tattoo on her chest draws my attention; it's a pair of pink demon wings with a skull in the center. I'm drawn to it with my mouth, running the sharp arc of my tongue across my wife's collarbones.
Oh.
I like that.
I like that a lot.
“What do you think, wife?” I ask, pushing my hips against hers. My cock slides between her folds, brushing up against the swollen nub of her clit. “Do you like your husband's body on top of yours?”
“Shut up, Victor,” she groans, trying to push at me with her palms. She may as well be pushing against a skyscraper; I'm not going fucking anywhere. I'm not done teasing her either. My left hand scoops up one of those full breasts, fingers kneading the soft flesh. At the same time, I tease Bernie's chest and neck with my tongue, undulating my hips in time to the thrusting of hers.
But I haven't given her my cock, not yet.
“Does this complete the cycle?” I whisper, nuzzling against her, feeling both affection and a desperate, frenzied need to possess. “To have the man you hate more than anyone in the world ride you into the mattress?” She shoves at me again, fingers clawing. I love the way her sharp nails rake down my back, and I thrust harder to reward her.
“Just fuck me, Vic,” she grinds out, but I shake my head. I want to hear her say it.
“Just fuck me, husband,” I correct, and she groans, throwing her head back and into the pillow. She bites down on it for a moment before exhaling sharply and opening her eyes. Two pools of emerald stare up at me, a fiery spirit trapped behind them, pounding its fists and begging for release. The demon inside my own body stirs and I adjust my hips, putting the tip of my cock inside of my wife. “Husband. Or no deal.”
“Husband,” she grinds out, and I laugh before I thrust in, nice and hard and fast. Hot heat envelops my cock as I slam balls-deep into my wife, loving the way her face contorts with pleasure, the way her breasts sway with the motion of my thrusts. We grind our bodies together, stirring up an inferno of friction.
