Page 76 of Punked By the Playmaker
He set a strong, steady pace that had the dryer thumping against the wall, as he gritted out, “Did my horny little slut need her husband’s cock?” A groan was pulled from his chest. “God, look at how well you take me.”
Beyond words, my whimper floated toward the ceiling. The warm-up orgasm had left me overstimulated, and the climax barreling down the tracks faster than a freight train threatened to destroy me.
But Levi wasn’t about to let me off the hook. Collaring my throat, he forced me to look at where our bodies were joined. “My wife’s cunt is so fucking greedy, sucking me back inside every time I try to pull out.”
I gasped out loud. The sight was borderline obscene—his glistening cock splitting my puffy lower lips as it plunged in and out—but at the same time hypnotic. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
His pace increased in tempo, and I locked my ankles around his waist.
“Fuck,” he cursed. “I can’t hold on much longer. Tell me you’re almost there.”
I lifted my hips, meeting him thrust for thrust, seeking more friction.
As if he could hear my silent request, Levi dropped a hand between us, rubbing tight circles over my clit, and within seconds I detonated, my cries so unfiltered and raw there was no doubt that the kids, the neighbors, the whole damn city heard them. But with bliss carving a path through my bloodstream, I couldn’t find it within me to care. All that mattered in this moment was Levi playing my body like a finely tuned instrument, making it sing.
“Gonna come,” he grunted, the warning barely having left his lips before he pushed in deep one last time, and I felt his dick swell, pulsing as he emptied inside me.
Levi’s forehead fell to my chest, his ragged breaths fanning my cleavage, which had become exposed at some point during our frantic coupling. His big palms smoothed over my hips in a tender caress.
“Too rough?” he asked.
“Never,” I breathed against the top of his head.
He glanced up at me with a lopsided grin. “You’re so fucking beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.”
Around the lump lodged in my throat, I corrected, “Temporarily yours.”
Levi’s smile slipped as if he just remembered the terms of our arrangement. “Right.” He pushed upright, letting his softening dick slide from my body and pulling up his shorts. “Guess I’d better get to work on those sandwiches.”
Ugh, why did I have to open my stupid fucking mouth?
At the end of the day, I was the same old Arizona, ruining everything I touched.
Chapter 22
Levi
“Youshouldskipoutof work in the middle of the afternoon every day,” I groaned into Arizona’s neck, my hand cupping her breast.
We were making out on the couch like a couple of teenagers, and it was so fucking hot I was in danger of creaming my pants.
My wife moaned as I tweaked her nipple through her shirt. “Can’t,” she panted. “Or we’d end up broke.”
I wasn’t dumb enough to point out that I made enough money to support all of us. Plus, I respected that Arizona was a strong, independent woman who took pride in earning a living.
Her sharp gasp split the air when I slid my hand up her skirt. Damn, I loved the easy access.
My fingers continued their upward trek toward the paradise between her thighs, only to rear back in surprise when I discovered she wasn’t wearing panties. “Holy shit.”
Breathless, with heavy-lidded eyes, Arizona stared up at me. “What?”
I dragged a path through her dripping slit. “Has my naughty girl been showing houses to clients with her pussy out? If you say yes, I’m gonna have to punish you.” I cupped her sex roughly. “This belongs to me.”
She bit down on her lower lip. “If I tell you I stuffed them in your glovebox when I got home, can I still get punished?”
“Goddamn, woman,” I groaned. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
My dick was throbbing, hard enough to pound nails, and all our clothing was still on.
