When Eleanor whispered those words, "You're so hard, honey. Do you want to fuck me now?"—her voice husky and needy, thick with sleep and raw want—Devon felt a surge of heat rush through him, straight to his groin, making his cock jump and leak more, the wetness smearing against her ass as she pressed back.
The words hung in the air, innocent and dirty at the same time, her thinking it was her husband, her voice breaking a little on the last word from the need.
A smile curved his lips, dark and satisfied, but he didn't say a word.
He didn't have to.
His body would do all the talking, every touch a sentence, every thrust a promise, his cock already aching to bury itself inside her.
Instead, he let his hand slide higher, fingers hooking under the hem of her nightgown, raising it even further with agonizing slowness.
