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her, ducked her head and unhooked the bra with practiced ease. Gave him a shy smile. He helpfully took over the task of slipping the straps off her shoulders and disposing of her underwear. And what was revealed was…exquisite. A perfect mouthful with hard, dark-pink nipples, and he had to wonder how sensitive they were. How she would like having his mouth on her. What noises would she make?
    But there was no time to test or taste.
    His wife shimmied the dark material over her hips, revealing an equally sensible pair of black panties. The wet dress dropped to the shower floor with a splash. Skin-toned stockings ran all the way up to a discreet, lacy show at her thighs and his brain overheated.
    No other excuse.
    He was on his knees and backing her into the nearest wall before it had a chance to catch up. The water struck his back in counterpoint to his hands on her warm, soft skin. So fucking beautiful.
    “Adam?”
    “Take them off.”
    “The stockings?”
    “No. Panties.”
    Fingers slipped down either side of the black underwear. She skimmed them down her legs and stepped out of them. When she reached for the wet stockings he pushed her hands away.
    “Leave those.” He pressed his face to the gentle round of her belly, sketched his fingers over the velvet of her thighs and traced the tops of her stockings. They should be illegal, those stockings. His wife should be contraband. He traced the edge of the lace with his fingertips and the muscles in her legs tensed. Her knees quivered. He kissed the dimple of her bellybutton and tried to think of something to say. Something complimentary or poetic, but he had nothing.
    Just a little lower, her pussy beckoned, the scent of her rich and musky and wholly feminine.
    He wanted it. Needed it.
    Gently, he pushed out against her locked knees, enough to let her know what he wanted. She didn’t hesitate, thankfully. With one hand, he guided her leg over his shoulder, opening her up to him. She really was exquisite, from the small swell of her mound to the bare, puffy pink lips of her sex.
    “Adam?”
    “Mmm?” He brushed his lips against her mound and his gaze turned up to her. The way she watched him pleased him no end. As if nothing else existed outside her need to have his mouth on her. There was a little ridge of skin above her nose, she was concentrating so hard.
    He pressed open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin and dug the tip of his tongue into the topmost seam of her pussy lips. She shuddered and her hands found his hair instead of clutching at the shower wall, fingers kneading his scalp.
    The next time he rubbed his lips over her mound, she gave a sharp tug. “Adam, stop teasing.”
    His wife was a hair-puller.
    Good to know.
    He hid his grin between her legs and got to work, eating her sweet, hot cunt like a starving man. There was little finesse and no restraint. He wanted to undo her too much.
    Needed to make her come.
    The barest beginnings of a thank you for what she had done for him today.
    One hand was curved around her thigh, keeping it on his shoulder, keeping her balanced. The other cupped an ass cheek, holding her to him when her legs started to shake. Louise rolled her hips and pushed against him, not shy at all. And he took.
    Fuck, it worked for him. Not just the taste of her but this wanton side of her that was being exposed.
    When her back arched and she cried out, her fingers twisted sharply in his hair, raising a tear. Painful, but oh so worth it. Her whole body quaked and quivered. He almost lost it there and then.
    And then there was an almighty thump as the back of her skull hit the tiled wall.
    “Princess?”
    Her hand flew from his head to her own and she blinked big, pain-filled eyes at him. “Ow.”
    Adam eased her leg down and stood, hands spanning her waist to hold her steady. His impatient dick tapped at his belly as if he needed the reminder.
    “I think I cracked my skull.” Louise rested her pink face against his chest. Her