by Raine Miller
Biting her bottom lip, she worried the soft piece of flesh between her teeth before asking what seemingly concerned her the most. “Do they swap couples there?”
The insecurity touching her features felt like a fist to his chest, and he sought to reassure her. “It’s definitely an option for members, but not a requirement, and there are public and private rooms, depending on a couple’s preference. I’ve been assured that monogamy is respected and I have no intention of sharing you with anyone,” he said adamantly. “Have you already forgotten how crazy jealous and possessive it made me to see another man put his hands on you at the night club?”
She ducked her head and laughed, though he didn’t miss the adorable blush on her cheeks. “I remember everything, especially afterwards.”
He let out a low, playful growl, recalling how much she’d loved his primal, alpha, your-my-woman claiming of her once they’d gotten home. “Yeah, that part was fun.”
Setting the invitation on the table, she turned more fully towards him on his lap and placed her cool palms on either side of his face, holding his gaze with her very somber one. “Just to be very clear, I don’t want to share you with anyone, either. They can look all they want, but no touching, unless you’d like to see a cat fight break out between two grown women, complete with nail scratching and hair pulling.”
“That sounds totally hot.” He smirked.
She playfully smacked his bare chest. “I’m serious,” she said, though she was smiling. “Looking is allowed, but absolutely no touching.”
He gave her a very solemn look. “Agreed.”
She exhaled a soft breath. “Then yes, I want to go to The Players Club with you.”
He blinked at her, surprised by her quick decision. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely, positively sure.” She gave him an adorably sheepish look. “Truthfully, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go to a sex club, so I can at least scratch that off my to-do list.”
“Or add it to our must-do-again list,” he suggested, just for the hell of it.
“We’ll see,” she said, not committing beyond that initial visit, which he completely understood.
She reached across the table and grabbed the wrapped gift with his name on it. “I hope you like your anniversary present.”
Now she looked nervous, which made him curious to know what she’d bought for him. He took the present from her, and while she watched anxiously, he tore away the paper and revealed a leather bound photo book. The cover was engraved in gold lettering with To Dean, the love of my life. Happy Twentieth Anniversary.
She shifted on his lap, and he opened the cover to the first page, expecting to see photographs chronicling their twenty years together, but instead his jaw nearly dropped to his chest when he laid eyes on the first full-sized, glossy picture of Jillian in glorious color detail.
This wasn’t an ordinary snapshot, either. No, this image of her, dressed in a sexy, all white baby doll nightie made his heart hammer excitedly in his chest, and his dick pulse with desire. She was kneeling on the bed in their playroom, staring at the camera with a provocative come-hither look in her slumberous eyes and a tempting smile on her beautiful face. Her hands were propped on her bare knees, which were slightly spread, and the way she leaned forward pushed her full breasts up and out. Through the sheer lace, he could see her dark pink areolas, and her hard nipples.
“Holy shit, Jill,” he breathed, both shocked and incredibly turned on by the unexpected photograph. “Who the hell took this photo?” If it was a guy, he’d have to hunt him down and kill him, he thought, only half-joking.
“A friend of Raina’s. Her name is Kendall and she’s a photographer who also does private boudoir sessions for clients. Do you like it?”
He gave her a wry look. “Can you honestly not feel how hard my dick is against your ass?” he said, and laughed.
She wriggled on his lap, rubbing herself against his stiff cock, and he groaned. “Ahh, yes, that’s very telling,” she teased, nuzzling her lips along his neck. “Turn the page. There’s plenty more for you to see.”
He did as she requested and again was blown away by the hot, playboyish type shots that had been captured of his wife in different poses and stages of dress – and undress. Each picture was tasteful, yet undeniably erotic. The woman who’d taken each photograph had played up Jillian’s best assets – her voluptuous breasts, her ass, and that soft curve of her hips. All the features that drove him mad with lust, and even now he could feel that hunger for her pounding through his veins as he gazed at a print of Jillian laying on her side in a red lace bra and matching panties, garter belt, and stockings. The sultry look in her eyes said I’m yours. Come and get me.
“Just so you know, you were the inspiration for every look and pose you see,” she whispered as her soft mouth moved along his jawline and her fingers plucked at his rigid nipples. “I glanced into that camera like it was you looking at me, wanting me, and it made me feel so hot and sexy.”
He exhaled a harsh breath that did nothing to ease the sexual tension building within him, though he was pretty sure that was Jillian’s intent. “You’re a goddamn tease,” he said, smiling at her.
“So you’ve said.” She kissed his mouth and ran her tongue along his bottom lip. “I might be a tease, but you can always count on me putting out.”
A gruff laugh escaped him. “Yeah, you’re easy that way.”
“Mmm.” She moved off his lap and knelt in front of him, then tugged on the waistband of his silk pajama pants. Knowing what she wanted, and dying for the same thing, he lifted his hips, enabling her to pull them completely off.
He sat in the dining room chair, completely naked, his erection a solid eight inches thick and straining against his stomach. Pushing his knees apart, she lowered her head, touching her lips to the inside of his thigh, then slowly, leisurely licked her way upward.
“There’s more,” she murmured huskily, her breath gusting hot and damp on his skin. “Keep looking.”
He turned another page and came across a picture of her in that dominatrix get-up she’d worn for him a few weeks ago. She looked amazing in the form-fitting red leather bustier and fuck-me stilettos, with her hair all disheveled around her bare shoulders and a flirty smile curving the corners of her mouth. But it was the leather crop she held in her hands that flooded his mind with the unforgettable images of him being tied to the bed, and how he’d witnessed a whole different side to his wife that night that he never knew existed.
Her fingers gripped his shaft, stroking his length while Jillian’s other hand fondled his taut balls as he looked at the seductive pictures of her. He felt like a teenager again, flipping through a Penthouse magazine while jacking off to photos of half-naked women. Except it was his wife who was unraveling him — licking the pre-cum from the swollen head before sucking him deep into her warm, wet mouth — and holy fuck, the culmination of both sensory reactions created one of the most erotic, mind-blowing experiences of his life.
Concentrating on anything but erupting like a volcano took extreme effort and control as she wrapped her silky tongue around his cock and slowly withdrew, adding another level of pleasure to her skillful blow job before deep-throating him once again.
A tremor ran through him, and he braced his feet on the floor and gritted his teeth to keep from exploding in her mouth, just as he reached the middle of the album. And just like an actual centerfold spread, he had to turn the book sideways and open another page, revealing a full featured pin-up of Jillian that literally stole the breath from his lungs. She was laying in the middle of their bed on her back, mostly naked and back-dropped by rumpled silky sheets the color of deep amethyst — a stunning contrast to her rich brown hair and smooth, creamy complexion.
Her hair was spread out around her head, her back was arched, and one arm was crossed over her bare breasts, barely concealing them. Her torso and stomach were bare, as were her thighs and endlessly long legs. A swath of purple silk d
raped across her hips, the only bit of modesty in an otherwise intoxicating photograph. Her other hand disappeared beneath that thin strip of sheet, giving the illusion that she was touching herself in a very intimate way.
The picture itself was seductive and suggestive, but it was the euphoric look on her face that riveted him. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, appearing as though she was in the throes of ecstasy as she pleasured herself. This was his wife at her most confident and uninhibited, yet vulnerable in a way that humbled him, because she’d given him something so incredibly private and erotic and personal.
Between the arousing photos and Jillian’s talented mouth working his cock, pure, unadulterated lust bolted through him, the rush so hot and deep he knew he was on the verge of combusting. There were so many more pages still left to see, but right now he wanted the real Jillian, flesh and blood and the clasp of her soft, warm sheathe enveloping him, instead of her mouth.
Setting the book on the table to finish looking at later, he wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled her lips free of his cock. “Ah, shit,” he groaned, both relieved and disappointed by the loss of all that silky, suctioning heat. “You need to stop. That feels too damned good.”
Her lips were parted and glistening, her gaze heavy-lidded and beguiling as she looked up at him from between his spread legs. “Then let me finish.”
“Not tonight,” he said, his voice gruff. “I want to be balls deep inside you when I come.”
She laughed softly. “Look at you, being all romantic,” she teased, and rose to her feet so she was standing in front of him. “How about you unwrap me first?”
She toyed with the ribbons lacing up the right side of her negligee, from hip to just under her arm. Reaching out, he placed his hand just above her knee then gradually skimmed his palm up her smooth thigh until his fingers disappeared into the slit of the gown and his thumb grazed the soft, very wet lips of her sex.
Ahhh, no panties, just as he’d thought.
She swallowed back a moan and pushed her hips against his hand, clearly wanting a deeper, firmer touch. Not yet ready for her to come, either, he left her aching and instead tugged on the ribbons securing the two panels of black silk fabric. He unlaced the criss-cross pattern until he held the long, thin strip of material in his hand, and the sides of her negligee fluttered open.
He glanced up at Jillian, his lips twitching with a wicked smile. “You do realize how handy this ribbon is, don’t you?” Thoughts of tying her hands behind her back while he fucked her danced in his head, tempting him.
She rolled her eyes and put him in his place in a way only his wife could. “You don’t always have to be the one in control, Dean. Tonight, I’d prefer mutual pleasure. And I want to be able to touch you.”
“Fine.” He exhaled a begrudging sigh that was completely feigned and dropped the ribbon to the floor. “Next time, then.”
“You are such a little boy sometimes,” she chided, clearly amused by his indignation for not getting his way.
There was no point in denying her claim. “Now take off the rest of the gown so I can look my fill of you.”
With a shrug of her shoulders, she let both straps fall down her arms, and the silky fabric slithered down her body until it pooled around her feet and she was as naked as he was. The blood heated in his veins as he raked his gaze along the length of her, refueling the pulse of need throbbing in his dick. Her body was lush and curvy and so fucking perfect, and he couldn’t wait another second to be inside her.
“Come here and straddle my cock so I can get as deep as possible,” he ordered, not caring that he was getting demanding, when he’d promised he’d give his wife romance tonight. Well, tough shit. He wanted her too badly to go slow and sweet.
She moved over his lap, her legs on either side of his thighs, her palms resting on his shoulders. He took his thick, rigid cock in his hand, rubbed the tip along her slick folds, and positioned the burgeoning head right at her entrance. “Take me, baby girl,” he said, his voice rough and desperate. “All of me, all at once.”
She came down on him in one smooth, fluid movement, taking him to the hilt until she was impaled fully on his steel rod. He grabbed her waist and pulled her down even harder, then tilted her hips and thrust upward, so there was absolutely nothing separating the two of them. She shuddered and cried out in surprise, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. He reveled in the sharp bite of pain, as well as that wide-eyed look of hers as she stared down at him.
He couldn’t help the smug smile that eased up one side of his mouth. “Does that feel like a little boy to you?” he taunted, grinding his groin against hers.
Breathless laughter escaped her. “Okay, I’ll admit, that feels like all man to me.”
“Damn straight,” he said, and grunted for emphasis.
She shook her head in playful disbelief. “You’re such a braggart.”
He chuckled, enjoying the fun, flirtatious banter between them. “It’s not bragging when it’s the truth.”
Finished talking, he gathered both of her breasts in his hands, dipped his head, and laved first one nipple, then the other, before sucking the turgid peak all the way into his mouth. She sighed softly, blissfully, as his tongue licked and swirled, until he unexpectedly bit down on her nipple and tugged hard, knowing he was riding a very fine line between pleasure and torture.
“Dean!” She gasped in shock, her entire body jerking in response to the sharp nip of his teeth once again.
Her pussy clenched around him as he continued to tease and torment her, a positive sign that she liked the twinge of pain despite her paltry protests. She twisted her fingers in his hair to tug him away, but he was relentless, proving that he didn’t need to tie her up in order to have his way with her.
She bucked and writhed wildly against him, forcing his cock impossibly deeper with every jerky thrust of her hips. Her head rolled back and her spine arched as she begged and cursed him at the same time . . . to stop, don’t stop, to please make her come. He increased the suction of his mouth and the pinch of his fingers as she rode him, fast and hard, her lust and need so beautifully unbridled, and holy hell, she was so fucking hot and sexy like this, so irresistible.
Her body tightened around his cock and she screamed as her orgasm tumbled through her, triggering his own release. He finally let go of her breasts, and placing his hands on either side of her face, he brought her lips to his, devouring her mouth in a bone-melting kiss that made her shudder against him. His tongue invaded, owned and possessed, just as his cock filled her and his cum spilled deep inside her tight, convulsing body.
She collapsed against him in a soft, boneless heap, her face buried against his neck and both of them breathing hard.
“Was that pleasure mutual enough for you?” He murmured against her ear, uncaring of just how smug he sounded.
A small, amused gust of laughter escaped her. “Not only are you a braggart, but you’re arrogant, too.”
He grinned, unable to deny her accusation, because, yeah, he was feeling very full of himself. “Guilty of both counts.”
She sighed, her body relaxing completely as she cuddled against his chest and he gently stroked her bare back with his hands. “That was nice.”
He stopped the caress of fingers down her spine and frowned. “Just nice?” he asked incredulously. Talk about an ego-deflator.
“Amazing?” She lifted her head from his shoulder, enabling him to see the teasing light glimmering in her eyes.
“Better,” he grumbled, and arched a brow, waiting for her to improve her definition.
“Phenomenal?” She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing.
“Damn straight,” he growled, then twisted his fingers in her hair and kissed her, long, hard, and deep. His cock stirred, pulsing with heat and renewed lust as she kissed him back, tongue’s tangling, lips sliding, and her hands in his hair, too.
God, what this woman, his wife, did to him. He might like being in control an
d dominant, but she truly had the ability to make him weak when it came to wanting her. She unraveled him, emotionally and physically, and with her, he knew he could let himself go and be a better man for it.
She moaned against his lips and began rocking her hips against his, rubbing and undulating like a nymph, her own desire returning with just as much rising intensity.
Wanting her on a soft bed so he could pound into her like he was dying to, he grabbed her ass in his hands, holding her tight against him as he quickly stood up, keeping their bodies joined.
Startled by the abrupt move, she threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him. “What are you doing?” she said, her voice a squeak of surprise.
He headed toward their bedroom, feeling the slide of his cock inside her every step of the way. “It’s our twentieth anniversary, baby. I’m not done with you yet, especially after that nice comment of yours. Before the night is through, I want you to see fucking fireworks.”
Husky, playful laughter filled his ears. “You can certainly give it your best shot.”
Reaching their bed, he laid her down on the mattress, pinned her arms above her head and spent the next few hours making good on his promise.
CHAPTER 3
Jillian couldn’t remember feeling so excited and nervous at the same time — excited to see what The Players Club was all about, and nervous about what to expect once she and Dean arrived at the massive, sprawling mansion. Ever since accepting her husband’s invitation on their anniversary, her anticipation had grown, and tonight was finally the night they’d step outside the boundaries of their own personal playroom and explore more public, forbidden temptations.
Exhaling a deep breath to calm the butterflies in her stomach, Jillian glanced in the dresser mirror to check her reflection one last time. Per her husband’s request, she was wearing his favorite “little black dress” — a very form-fitting sheath made of shimmering black material that ended mid-thigh. The front had a high neck and long sleeves, giving the illusion of modesty, but the low-cut, backless design made it impossible for her to wear a bra, and the clinging material molded to her full breasts in a way he loved. The only thing she wore beneath were a pair of black lace panties.
