“That’s fine, Sarah. Just get him to send the paperwork through and tell him I’ll have it figured out by tomorrow.” Leo sighs. “No. It’ll be fine. Okay … thank you.” He ends the call, looking up from his desk in his office to find me leaning against the doorway, watching him. He leans back in his chair, stretching his arms up and over his head. He’s still in his running shorts and a baggy sweat-stained t-shirt, having just got home from the gym. “The kids get off to school okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Yep. Got back from dropping them off a while ago.” I walk into the room, skimming a finger over the large shelf where a row of photo frames sit. Pictures of the kids. Then the shelf below, Leo and me in college next to our wedding and some family photos. Lifting my finger up, I frown at it. “It appears that your wife isn’t doing a very good job of dusting this office of yours,” I say, inspecting the fine coating of dust on my finger.
Giving me that signature smirk, he chucks his phone onto the desk and asks, “Really?”
Walking over to him, I take a seat on the edge of his desk and rub my bare foot up his shin. “Really.”
“Well, that might be because I’ve kept her quite busy”—his eyes heat—“doing other … things.”
“Oh?” I raise my brows and climb down into his lap. “What kind of things?” I whisper into his ear, sucking his lobe into my mouth.
He hardens beneath me, his hot breath ghosting across my neck as he says, “Very bad things.” His hand climbs underneath my dress then pulls my panties to the side to discover how wet I am.
He groans. “You see, my wife likes to play dirty. She tends to like it rough and hard. A little sweet and a little mean. You get what I’m saying?”
Shivers dance across my heated skin. I hum, but it’s more of a moan. “You poor thing. She sounds very … demanding.”
His finger toys with my entrance. “Demanding, indeed. Good thing my cock is always up for the challenge.” He thrusts his finger inside, and my head rolls back as I grind myself onto his hand. “She’s always so wet, so ready for me.” His lips graze a path up my throat. Then his finger is gone, and he’s swiping papers and his laptop to the side before lifting me onto the desk. He tugs my panties off, throwing them to the floor before grabbing my thighs and spreading me open as he sits back in his chair and bites his lip, looking at me.
“Leo,” I whimper.
“Do you need my cock, wife?” His voice is hoarse, his tone biting.
I lean up on my elbows to meet his gaze as I say, “Now.”
He smirks. “Don’t even care that I’ve just spent an hour at the gym, and I’m a sweaty mess, do you?”
I almost growl, feeling so turned on that my arms start shaking as I try to keep myself held up. “Please.”
He runs the pads of his fingers over the sides of me, purposely avoiding and teasing. I throw my head back, about to scream with frustration when I feel his mouth on me. He licks up and down my center with hard and slow swipes of his tongue. Humming deep in his throat, his hands move my legs over his shoulders, and he soon loses himself and starts feasting like a starving man.
I fall to my back, my legs wrapped around his head as I rock into each blissful movement of his tongue and lips. Then, with several harder flicks of his tongue over my clit, I come. Hard and loud, moaning his name as pleasure travels through every nerve ending of my body. He gently kisses and licks, drawing it out for me even with my legs probably smothering him to death in their vise-like grip.
With my chest heaving, I gently unwrap them, and he helps me to sit up. Standing, he picks me up, my legs hooking around his waist as he leaves his office and carries me upstairs. He sets me by the sink in our en suite before turning the water on in the shower and stripping out of his gym clothes. My thighs squeeze together as I watch him lower his shorts over the perfect globes of his ass. Throwing me a grin over his shoulder, he stalks into the shower and I just sit here, jaw hanging open before snapping into action. I jump down, tearing my dress over my head then my bra as he starts washing himself, acting as if he’s not hard as stone and doesn’t need me. Opening the door, I step in and close it, my hands going to his back and gliding over the soapy dips and valleys of his smooth skin. Sliding back down, they skirt around his midsection as I kiss his back, grabbing his engorged cock and moving my hand up and down the velvety length of it.
He curses, his head tilting back underneath the spray of the water. It runs down his face and over his body as I move around him and drop to my knees, taking him in my mouth. His hips start jerking, his hands winding into my wet hair as he starts thrusting as deep as he can go into my mouth. Gagging, I grab his ass with one hand and use the other to knead his balls. He tenses, pulling me off him and turning me around to face the tiled wall.
“Don’t want to come in my mouth, husband?” I pant over my shoulder.
He smacks then palms my ass, helping to fuel the fire that’s reignited between my legs. “I fucking love coming down your throat. But I know sucking me off gets you hot and bothered and this …” He trails his fingers over my folds then spreads them open for his cock to nudge at my entrance. “Sweet pussy needs me again.”
“Yes,” I moan, my back arching as he grabs my hips and slams home in one thrust.
“Fuck, so fucking good,” he rasps, hands grabbing my ass cheeks and using them for leverage as he starts thrusting in and out in a punishing rhythm that has me feeling delirious. His thick length drags along that perfect spot, exactly where I need it, every time. A hand leaves my ass and scoops my hair into his fist. “Gonna come again, beautiful?” he asks.
“I … y-yes, ohhh, fuck. Don’t stop,” I stutter out in response.
He chuckles darkly, swiveling his hips, and then I’m falling apart, almost slipping as my body trembles. His hand releases my hair, wrapping tightly around my waist as he pumps in and out of me a few more times then stays buried to the hilt. Grinding slowly, he comes with a low, hoarse groan ripping its way out of his throat.
“Shit.” He laughs huskily, carefully sliding out of me and turning me around in his arms. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of fucking you, wife.” He cups my face, tucking some of my wet hair behind my ear as I look up at him.
“Good.” I grin. “Because you did say forever. So you’re stuck with my demanding ass.”
That amazing mouth tugs into a smirk, and his hands move down to squeeze said ass. “Fine with me.” He ducks his head, taking my lips in a gentle kiss and moving us underneath the water. “Only ever, always you,” he says against my mouth, kissing it one more time before grabbing the shampoo and washing my hair. I laugh, wiping suds out of my eyes as he attempts to wash it all out. Taking over, I rinse out the shampoo and pass him the conditioner, loving the way he bites his lip as he concentrates on running it through the ends of my hair.
After we’re finished washing each other, we climb out and get dried. I’m getting dressed into a pair of jeans, cream blouse, and black jacket when I notice the time.
Shit. “Leo, we’re going to be late.”
He comes out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his hair and glancing at the time. “We’ll be fine. I’ll grab our stuff and meet you in the car in ten.”
He pecks my head then walks into our wardrobe to get dressed as I race into the bathroom, quickly putting some mascara and lip gloss on. Men. Of course, he thinks ten minutes is enough time. I’d roll my eyes, but I’m in too much of a hurry. Snatching my hair dryer from the drawer, I plug it in and tug a brush through my messy, wet blond locks. Five minutes later, it’s only half dry, but it’ll have to do.
I run back downstairs, finding Leo in the doorway to the garage, my purse dangling from his finger. “Thank you.” I grab it, planning on heading straight for his car, but he doesn’t let go, causing me to collide with his chest.
“Chill.” He smiles down at me. “We’ll be there in no time. Besides, I’m the one who should be freaking out.”
He’s right, damn it. Kissing me on the nose, he lets go of my bag and opens the car door for me to hop in. Rounding the car, he gets in and we back out of the driveway, the garage closing as Leo puts the car into first and speeds off down the street.
Once we’re nearing the city, I ask, “You do seem pretty okay about this, or are you secretly freaking out a little?”
He grabs my hand, linking his fingers through mine on his thigh.
“No point in freaking out until I get there.” He releases my hand after a minute to flick the turn signal on, exiting the highway and driving into the city. “And I’ve got you. I don’t think you understand—hell, I don’t think I understood until recent weeks—how much that helps.”
He parks the car outside a new looking brown and black building that’s only a few blocks away from his work. I grab his hand again, lifting it to my mouth and kissing the top of it before opening the door and climbing out into the late morning sunshine. The ocean carries a breeze through the tall buildings of the city that has me buttoning my coat closed as Leo waits for me on the curb. Weaving our fingers together again, we walk inside the doors and are greeted by a young man with a kind face and an even kinder smile as he lifts his gaze to us.
“Good afternoon, how can I help you?”
“Leo Vandellen, here to see Dr. Tonks,” Leo informs him before we’re told to take a seat. The number I found in his car? It was because he’d heard of a therapist, Dr. Tonks, moving here to Rayleigh.
Not even two minutes later, an older male, looking to be in his mid to late forties, comes down the hall and shakes our hands before asking us to follow him into his office. Walking inside, I find myself impressed. Not only by the easygoing manner of Dr. Tonks but also by his room. The building may be new, stylish even, but it’s not sterile. The air isn’t stagnant or oppressive. The windows are all open, allowing the breeze to filter in and stir the venetian blinds, causing them to slap gently against the glass. The couches are leather and new, but they look comfortable. There are red woven rugs and pictures of Dr. Tonks’s family on his desk and on the shelves, next to certificates stating his various degrees.
Leo takes a seat on the couch, lifting a leg and resting his ankle over his knee as he looks over at me. Giving him a small smile, I walk over and take a seat beside him. His hand instantly finds mine, his grip firm as I feel him tense up next to me. We make idle chitchat for a little while, and Dr. Tonks tells us to call him Evan.
“So,” Evan finally says, sitting opposite us with his notepad beside him on the couch. He folds his hands together in his lap as he reclines back a little, looking relaxed as he asks, “What brings you here today?”
He stares straight at Leo, patiently waiting.
Leo clears his throat. “Well, I’m here because earlier this year, my wife and I …” He looks over at me, his gaze stormy as he swallows. I gently nod, telling him with my eyes that he can do this. That I’m here for him as I squeeze his hand.
He blows out a breath, turning back to Evan. “Earlier this year, we attended a friend’s anniversary party …”