Strong, Silent Type

Quinn ripped his mouth free and nestled his cheek beside hers. “Been so long. God, Libby. I’m already there.” His rhythm never faltered, even through his short and choppy breaths. “Lift your shirt. Pull my sweats down so I can come on your belly.”



Those gruff words alone would’ve been enough to get her hot again, but she was already past the point of no return. Libby reached between them. The head of his cock poked up past the waistband of his sweatpants. He’d gone commando. Handy. She briefly touched the sleek maleness before aligning the weeping tip above her belly button. “Do it.”



The thrusts were hard and fast. Quinn’s head snapped back with enough force his hat fell to the dirt.



Libby shamelessly watched pleasure contort her husband’s face as he came with a low moan. His pelvis kept pumping until warmth spurted across her stomach. With the constant abrasion to her clit, another quick orgasm erupted that left her gasping and selfishly wanting more.



Quinn stilled and slowly opened his eyes.



Rather than break the moment, Libby swirled her fingertips through the come dripping down her belly. She brought the slickly coated fingers to her mouth, licking at the salty offering. “Mmm.”



His powerful gaze never wavered. Not even when she traced the seam of his lips with her wet fingers and demanded, “Taste.”



Without hesitation Quinn drew her fingers deeply into his mouth and sucked.



Her sex clenched. Her blood seemed to sizzle and pop beneath her skin. Who was this wild man? She managed a raspy, “Quinn.”



“I know, darlin’ wife. Home. Now.” He gently deposited her on the ground. Hat on, their clothes somewhat back in order, he guided her to the truck.



On the road home, Quinn reached for her hand, but didn’t urge her to sit next to him. Nor did he speak, which caused a heightened sense of sexual awareness in the confines of the silent cab. Her stomach flipped whenever the coarse pad of Quinn’s thumb stroked the pulse point on the inside of her wrist.



After he’d parked in front of the house, Quinn turned off the engine, but didn’t attempt to get out of the pickup. He lounged against the door. Not in a relaxed manner, but tensed, like a coiled snake about to strike.



“What?”



His very hungry, very male gaze executed a methodical sweep of her body, from the tip of her nose to the toes of her boots. “Strip.”



Not the response she’d expected. “Right here? In the truck?”



“Yep.”



“But—”



“Huh-uh. Here’s that darker edge, Libby. I ain’t foolin’ around when I say take off your damn clothes.



Now.”



“In a striptease?”



“If you like. I don’t care just as long as you get nekkid. Fast.”



The demand was so unlike Quinn.



Isn’t this what you wanted? To witness the dark side of your lover you suspected he kept hidden from you?



Absolutely.



Libby tentatively unbuttoned her blouse. Once she’d taken it off, she looked to him for further instruction.



“All of it. Bra, jeans, thong.” He grinned. “Have I mentioned how much I love seein’ nuthin’ marring that sweet ass except a single string? Them bright pink ones are my favorite.”



She swallowed hard. She’d assumed he hated the changes she’d made in the last year, since he hadn’t said a word, good, bad or otherwise. Seemed she’d been mistaken.



What else had she been mistaken about when it came to her husband?



“Libby?”



“Fine. I’m doing it.” First, she yanked at her boots. She’d been in such a hurry to leave the massage studio she’d pulled her boots on over her jeans. After peeling off her socks, Libby glanced over at him.



“Bra next. I wanna see your tits bouncin’ and swayin’ as you’re wigglin’ outta them skin-tight jeans.”



Her face flamed at the mental picture he’d painted. “Quinn!”



“Don’t act so surprised. You gotta remember how much I love your tits.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Or am I gonna have to give you a very intensive refresher course? ’Cause I am so all over that.”



Good Lord. She couldn’t believe how hot his dirty talk and highhanded behavior made her. Her thong was soaked. She rubbed her thighs together as she sought the bra clasp in the middle of her back. Libby slipped the satin straps down her biceps. Once her arms were freed, she playfully flung the lacy bra in Quinn’s face.



“God, I forgot how pretty your nipples are.” Quinn licked his lips. “Get them britches off.”



Libby rested her shoulders on the door and wiggled her hips. As her fingers made quick work of the button and zipper, she hoped her cottage-cheese thighs wouldn’t jiggle as much as her boobs. She shimmied the denim and her underwear down her legs, past her knees and calves, kicking them to the floorboard.



Quinn didn’t utter a peep. Libby stayed motionless, red-faced, heart pounding, blood racing, perched naked as the day she was born, on the front seat of his truck, in broad daylight.



“Libby. Darlin’, look at me.”



She slowly elevated her chin. Quinn’s face glowed with pure male heat. And his eyes. Lord, his indigo eyes were filled with such love and need, that her soul nearly burst.



“You are beautiful. You’ve always been the most beautiful girl in the world to me. That hasn’t changed in fourteen years. The way I feel about you hasn’t changed. It never will.”



“Quinn—”



“That said…” He distractedly adjusted his cock. When he realized she’d been staring at his crotch, his palm repeatedly stroked the bulge between his legs. “Oh, little wifey mine. I’m likin’ this naughty side of you. I like it so much, in fact, that I’m gonna give you fair warnin’.”



“About what?”



Instead of answering, Quinn removed his hat. Stripped off his T-shirt. Toed off his shoes and socks.



But he left his sweatpants on.



“Fair warning about what?” she prompted.



“Fair warnin’ that after you run into the house, I’m gonna be hot on your heels. And when I catch you, I’m gonna fuck you right where you stand.”



Her heart thumped a whole lot faster.



“You wanted to let the cat outta the bag and here I am, more than ready to pounce.”



Oh God.



“So if I’m the cat, I guess that makes you—” his gaze swept over her impatiently, “—the mouse.”



Ah hell, she was so screwed.



And she loved every second of it.



Quinn showed his teeth in a ravenous smile. “Now’s your chance. Run little mouse, run.”



Libby opened the truck door just as Quinn lunged at her. Modesty forgotten, she raced up the walkway naked.



***



Three. Two. One.



Quinn leapt out of the truck.



He ignored the burn and sting of the concrete on his bare feet. His focus was on one thing.



Libby.



Finding her. Fucking her. Marking her. A possessive, red haze, more animal than man, fogged his neural pathways. Every pounding footstep echoed in his head as a mantra: mine mine mine.



He tore up the porch steps and shouldered aside the front door. The kitchen zipped by in a blur. He sprinted past the dining room table into the front room.



No. Wait. He stopped. Backtracked in mind and body. There she was, trying to blend into the wall separating the three-season room from the living room.



Silly woman. She’d never been a wallflower in his eyes. She’d never blended. She’d always been the only one who’d stood out in every crowd. From the first moment he’d seen her.



Find her. Fuck her. Mark her.



Mine mine mine.



Quinn growled and advanced on her.



Libby remained utterly still. He ripped off his sweats and stood naked and fully aroused before her.



He slapped his hands on the wall above her head, but she didn’t flinch.



He planted his mouth next to her ear. “I found you.”



“I see that.”



“I want you.” Quinn rubbed his cheek over hers, marking her with his scent.



“I know.”



“You’re mine. Only. Ever. Mine.”



“I know that too, Quinn.”



“Do you also know how I wanna fuck you, little mouse?” Quinn let his lips trail to where her pulse jumped frantically in her throat.



“Ah. No.”



“Then I’ll tell you. You’re gonna be face-first against this wall. Me rammin’ into that sweet, wet, hot, tight pussy from behind, takin’ what belongs to me. And when I can’t hold back another second?” He flicked his tongue across the hollow of her throat. “Then I’m gonna pull out and come all over your back.



Just like I came all over your front.”



She whimpered a sound of pure need.



Quinn spun Libby forward, positioning her arms above her head, flattening her palms to the wall. He curled his hands around her hips and angled her pelvis for easier, faster, deeper entry.



He slid his right hand over her swollen pussy lips and used the thick cream to stroke her clit. “You’re drippin’ wet thinkin’ about what I’m gonna do to you.”



Another moan. Louder.



“Gonna be fast, hard and dirty, darlin’ wife.”



“Do it.”



Quinn kept his hold on the front of her body as his left hand aligned his cock. He thrust to the root with one sharp snap of his hips.



Tight. Hot. Wet. Damn. It was good to be inside her. It was damn good to be home.



“Oh. God. Yes.” Her hoarsely spoken words shattered what little restraint he had left.



He slammed in. Withdrew quickly and rammed in again. Over and over. Setting a pace that robbed him of reason and the ability to do anything but sate his need for her by fucking her.



Sweat dampened his hair and trickled down his spine. Blood pounded in his head, his throat, his heart.



His groin was on fire.



A familiar tightening at the base of his cock signaled he’d reached the end point. Four, five, six, ball-bruising thrusts and he withdrew from Libby in time to take himself in hand. He jacked his cock hard and aimed at her lower back, groaning at every hot burst of come exploding from his dick. He watched each spurt dotting her skin and a primal roar arose.