Page 180 of Shades of Loyalty
There will never be a day I’m not going to love this.
When her legs begin to tremble slightly, I know she’s close. She’s already told me, but she didn’t have to.
If she thinks I’m gonna stop before she comes on my tongue and lets me taste her, we’re having a huge disagreement here.
But it’s embarrassing.Fuck that.
I’ve fucked her throat and shoot my sperm inside there as well. This woman is too shy to come on my tongue, but I’m about to change her mind.
I can tell.
Because I know she won’t stop anymore now.
My grip on her thighs tightens, keeping her still, making her feel every bit of it. Every slow, torturous second of the high I’m giving her.
She cries out my name when she comes, and it’s not just lust—it’slove. Desperation. Relief.Home.
Fucking home.
I kiss my way back up her body, my lips dragging along her stomach, over her racing heart. Her chest rises and falls like she’s trying to catch up with her own soul.
And when our eyes meet again, I see it—the way she looks at me like I’m not just a man, but a miracle.
“I love you, hubby” she whispers.
And for once in my life, I don’t hesitate.
“I love you more, my sweet wifey,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Now let me show you how much, alright?”
And holy shit, I did. I’m pretty sure the alarm showed 5:32 am when I last took a glance at it before both of us drifted away into our dreams.
My dream wasn’t holy. It was sinful.
And Jesus, please forgive me, but I enjoyed this dream sofuckingbadly.
I didn’t go easy on my wife. But she didn’t go easy on me, either.
We both drained each other out, only to be met with a huge wave of exhaustion at some point. I made sure to clean her up and treat her well after both of us finished, but well…
I am pretty sure—no, exactly sure—that I’ve heard the words “my pussy is so sore” at least four times the next morning.
My God, I enjoyed that.
The night, the morning, and all the days afterward.
Chapter Sixty
Jennifer
Tell me a more relaxing sound than a coffee machine preparing a latte macchiato. I’ll wait—because there is none.
Outside, soft snowflakes drift past the windows, painting the world in quiet white. It reminds me of the days Daniel and I met—only that the world seemed depressing back then. There was no snow, no cozy Christmas days—only the depressing truth.
Today? Everything feels so different from the day we met, just a year ago.
The scent of fresh pastries which probably just came out of the oven fills the cozy café, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. I sit at a little windowtable, watching the snow gently dust the passing cars and the sidewalks, where bundled-up strangers walk with red noses and steaming breath.
I’m not entirely sure why I chose to come here today. When Daniel asked me what I wanted to do to celebrate our one-year anniversary, he offered a romantic dinner, maybe something elegant and expensive. But somehow… this felt right.
