The Photographer

(31) Bombshell

As their naked bodies fell onto the bed together, talking had all but slipped from Seb's mind. With their limbs entwined, bodies pressed tightly together and kissing as if they needed each other lungs to survive, just being with Iris overrode everything else.

Squeezing his hand between them, he dipped it downwards until he reached between her legs. She was wet for him, so wet that two of his fingers easily slipped inside her while his thumb started to tease her clit.

She let out a loud, shaky groan of pleasure, arching her back and writhing her hips in a rhythm that quickly matched the pleasurable torture of his hand.

"Fuck, you're so perfect, so beautiful," he half moaned the words out, his voice raspy and his beautiful accent more prominent than usual. It still amazed him that she'd thought she'd been the one with the problem when it came to sex with her husband, Seb had now proved on multiple occasions just how capable her body was when it came to orgasms and how fucking clueless Ben was. The guy couldn't even make his own wife wet, what chance did she ever have of feeling as good as this with him?

Her body was burning for him, her insides aching and silently screaming for him and she scratched her nails down his back, moaning into his mouth and only managing to choke out a desperate sounding, "please" when their lips parted for a fraction of a second.

"Please what, Iris?" he asked, continuing the slow dance of this thumb on her clit and the in and out motion of his fingers.

She opened her mouth to speak but as he curled his fingers inside her not a single sound would come out and he took possession of her mouth once more.

He was getting a kick out of the way he could control her body. He'd never been with anyone who's body was so sensitive and responsive as her's was. He'd never fallen in love like this before. Why the fuck didn't I find this woman sooner? If we'd met before she'd married that idiot then she'd be all mine now.

"Iris," he said her name again as his fingers curled over her g-spot, making her breath hitch and a strangled moan leave her lips, "tell me what you want."

He felt her squeeze his fingers and he covered her mouth with his own again, kissing her deeply and devouring the groan that escaped her chest. He began to pump his fingers in and out of her a little faster, each time curling them and feeling her jolt and writhe uncontrollably in response. She was now so wet he could hear it and he knew she'd be able to hear it too.

He couldn't help but smirk against her lips; Ben made her dry and sore while he got her soaking wet and made her cum so hard she would often feel exhausted afterwards and fall asleep with her body pressed against his own. He knew he should feel guilty, he was fucking another man's wife but his love for Iris was so strong and felt so right that he knew there was no need to feel bad - they were simply meant for each other and Ben was the wrong man for her. She had to leave him soon, she just had to.

Gently easing his fingers from her body, he answered her frustrated pleas by rolling them from laying on their sides until she was beneath him, her legs wide open, his hands instantly caressing and exploring every inch of her that was available to him while their tongues snaked and danced together in deep, desperately hungry kisses.

It had felt like so long ago since he'd felt her heated skin against his own, since he'd been able to lose himself in her, though in reality it had only been three weeks. When she had finally left her husband and was his then they'd never go as long as this again. He really wished that she'd do it sooner rather than later.

He lifted his body enough to enable himself to take hold of his aching dick and line himself up with her, keeping his mouth on hers as he pushed himself into her.