Page 60 of Beauty and the Bosshole

Or she won't.

After five years, I rather think it's the latter. My wife loves pushing my buttons just to get a reaction from me. She knowsI'm a beast when it comes to her. That won't ever change. I'm starving for her, every minute of the day.

I stalk toward her, steam swirling around us, until she's plastered against the shower wall with me pressed against her. The vibrations from her little toy thrum through my chest where it's wedged between our bodies.

"Hand it over, Ava," I growl, my lips inches from hers. "Or I won't use it to make you come before you come on my cock."

We both know that's what she really wants—my cock. She's horny every minute of the day in the third trimester. Lucky me.

Her pupils are blown wide as she reluctantly relinquishes control of the small device to me. Goddamn solar-powered batteries. Of course they're her favorite. She gets off and thinks she's saving the planet, too. You're welcome, Mother Nature.

With Leon turning over control of our battery suppliers to us, there was no real reason to continue on with the solar-powered battery plan, but she insisted. “Think of the good we could do, Reese.”

Do I look like a man who tells my wife no? Fuck no. If she wants me to fuck her silly with a vibrator powered by the sun, so she sleeps better at night thinking she's orgasming her way to the end of global warming, then fuck it. I'm in.

"Good girl," I croon, pressing the little toy hard against her nipple as my lips crash against hers in a punishing kiss.

"Reese," she moans against my lips, already writhing against the shower wall.

I nip her bottom lip, pinching her right nipple between my thumb and forefinger. "How do you want it, baby?"

"Fast." Her glossy eyes meet mine, already dazed with pleasure. "I have things to do. The kittens have to be fed."

Yeah, that's not going to happen. She'll be passed out five minutes after I get her off while I feed the little furballs. Who knew they'd grow on me like they have? Cats are assholes andthey're all obsessed with my wife. It turns out that we have a lot in common.

"We'll see," I murmur, sliding my hand down her belly. Fuck, I love her belly. Actually, scratch that. I love every inch of her perfect body. Every roll. Every dimple. Every stretch mark. Every spot she thinks is a flaw is an utter goddamn work of art to me. I could spend hours lavishing attention on each one—and I have. My hands and mouth have worshipped every inch of her body, leaving her sobbing in ecstasy. I've told her every day for five years just how perfect she is, and I've meant every single word. I still do.

She's a crazy cat lady. But she's my crazy cat lady, and I'm fucking obsessed with her. That won't ever change. She and our daughters are my entire world. So is the little boy growing in her belly.

My heart thumps wildly as my hand slides down the swell of her belly, and our boy kicks as if to remind me that he's in there, patiently waiting to make his debut.

"Not now, little man," I murmur. "Go to sleep so I can do dirty shit to your mama."

"Reese!" Ava chokes on a laugh. "You can't tell him that."

"He doesn't understand me, Ava. He's swimming around in amniotic fluid."

"He might understand you."

I refuse to think about that possibility, so I touch her pussy instead. She immediately gasps, arching against me. That's more like it.

I watch her face as she rocks against my hand, riding my fingers. When she's right on the edge, gasping and panting, I slide the toy down her belly, placing it against her clit.

"Reese!" she squeals, shattering apart instantly. Her juices soak my fingers, but that's not good enough for me. I want another one.

I thrust two fingers inside her, curling them up to stroke her G-spot. I don't remove the toy, either. I keep it right where it is, letting the vibrations hum through her.

"Please, please," she gasps, writhing like a pretty little sacrifice against the wall.

"Nope," I growl, nipping her bottom lip. "You owe me another one for trying to make yourself come without me. This is my body, wife. I get you off, not this fucking toy."

"Reese, please," she whimpers.

"If you want to come on my cock, you better come on my fingers, baby." I bury my face in her throat, sucking at her sweet skin. Christ. She tastes so fucking good. "You know I'm not letting up until you give me what I want."

We both know she wants the same damn thing, as much as she pretends otherwise. She's a greedy, greedy girl.

I fuck her with my fingers, groaning against her slippery skin as her inner muscles clench and flutter around me. Goddamn, I love the way she grips me so fucking tight, like she's trying to hold on to me, to keep me inside her. It's the sexiest damn thing.