And that’s how I find myself pushing her down on the desk, hiking up her knees so her high heels hook over the edge, and spreading those strong, toned legs. I push her skirt to her waist, tug her panties to the side, and then kiss her hot, wet pussy.

She tastes like heaven on my tongue, and a rumble works its way up my chest. She’s so slick, and there’s nothing better than knowing the woman you want is this hot for you. The caveman in me wants to go wild on her, to kiss her pussy in a relentless devouring. But I’ve got to get her there first. Can’t just start at sixty miles an hour. I pace myself, flicking my tongue over the rise of her clit.

“Oh my God,” she moans, and I smile as all the memories of her sexy sounds return. I love how loud she is, the noises she makes, the things she says. “I’ve been fantasizing . . . Your lips are just . . .” Her words are broken by her panting breaths, as I suck her clit into my mouth in a way that makes her writhe.

“Yeah? You’ve been wanting me to eat you?” I raise my face and grab her pink panties, pulling them off in one smooth motion.

“So much, so much,” she says, lifting up her hips like a fucking invitation, like she needs this as desperately as I do.

I kiss the top of her mound then whisper, “Show me that it’s all you’ve been thinking about.”

I return to the glorious land between her legs. Her pussy glistens with her arousal, so wet and shiny that I half want to admire the sight of her slick pink flesh, but I wholly want to consume it and be consumed by her. Pressing my hands to her legs, I spread her open again and lick, a long, lush stroke all the way up, spearing my tongue against her throbbing clit at the top.

She cries out my name.

My tongue goes in reverse, trailing down.

She moans God’s name.

And I go to town, lapping her wetness. Sucking her sweetness. Devouring her until she’s panting and writhing and saying Jesus’s name this time. Maybe I can get her to call out all the saints, too.

Her hands seek my hair, grabbing, clamping down. Her hips lift, matching my moves as I kiss her pussy the way I’ve kissed her lips. Hungrily. Like I can’t get enough to eat.

“It’s so good, it’s so good, it’s so good,” she moans, tugging on my hair, pulling my face closer, even though, trust me, I’m buried in her right now. There’s no place I’d rather be. My hard-on wages a battle to escape from my jeans. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted any woman.

Her hips grind against my face, her nails dig into my skull, and she rocks into my mouth, driven by a need I’m sure only I can quench. I lick faster, kiss her more greedily, flick my tongue against her sweet clit until she’s locked her legs around my head. “Oh God, don’t stop, I’m coming, don’t stop, I’m coming,” she cries out.

I want to tell her I’d never stop, but I can barely breathe, because she’s coming all over my lips, my chin, my face. She sings my name as her orgasm blasts through her until she shudders and shakes, panting “oh God” in a softer voice as she comes down from the high.

As I straighten up and wipe my hand over my mouth, I take in the sight in front of me. Natalie’s on her desk, her legs wide open, her beautiful face colored with pure satisfaction, her blond hair a wild tumble.

Bliss. Fucking bliss.

She blinks open her eyes, and it’s as if she’s waking up after a dream. When her gaze finds mine she smiles, and it’s a new one—a dopey grin that somehow turns me on even more.

Impossibly, the spark in me shoots higher when she raises her arm, reaching for me. I take her hand, tug her closer, and help her off the desk. I figure she’ll smooth her skirt, fluff her hair, something like that.

Instead, she turns around, bends over, and places her palms on the desk.

An offering.

She doesn’t need to ask twice. I unzip my jeans, pull down my briefs, and rub the head of my cock against all that wetness. Pride surges in me. She’s soaked because of me. She’s dripping because I made her come so fucking hard.

Then sanity comes to roost. “I should grab a condom,” I mutter.

She shakes her head. “We’re fine. As long as you haven’t been with anyone since—”

“Fuck no.”

“Then give me your dick, Wyatt,” she says with a dirty little wink.

“Take it, sweetheart. Fucking take it,” I growl, as I rub the head between her legs and shove inside.

She gasps, and just like that, I’m fully nestled in the woman who’s still my wife. Though something is terribly wrong about that little situation, it feels strangely right at this moment, too. But I can’t dwell on titles or labels when I’ve got my woman to fuck. My hands grip her hips, and I raise her ass up a bit, finding the perfect angle.

It’s so fucking good as I fill her, as I pull back, as I drive deep inside. She’s with me every second, and we move in a kind of fevered unison. Fast, hard strokes. Deep, powerful thrusts. Groans and grunts that layer on top of each other. I roll my hips and drive in, and she rocks with me, giving me her body for our pleasure.

Within minutes, she’s returned to the edge. She grips the sides of the desk and calls out my name. “Oh God, Wyatt. Oh my fucking God,” she screams, and the sound of my name on her lips makes my balls tighten. Pleasure climbs in me, reaching a peak as I fuck her through her second climax, her orgasm coating my dick.

As she shudders beneath me, I erupt. “Fuck, Nat. Gonna come so hard.”