Read Online Madeleine Strays: A Wife-Watching Romance by Max Sebastian - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Max Sebastian
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expression as she mentioned her chemistry with this other man.
“You were with him a very long time,” he said. “Are you sure you only kissed him?”
Flames were flickering in her dark eyes. “I kissed him, he kissed me, we kissed,” she spoke slowly, and he watched her lips as she formed the words, in awe that she had actually made out with another man.
He knew she was telling the truth this time. He could feel it.
“He walked me home,” she said, and he regretted not being able to see the date escort her back to this building, see who he was, whether he was worthy. “It took a while to get here. We kept stopping in doorways.”
“Stopping in doorways? Why?”
“Because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
Hugo felt so strange. He felt as though his chest cavity contained nothing but a carousel, one of the bright rowdy fairground varieties with flashing lights and horses rising and falling as the whole thing revolved. This was exactly what he wanted, wasn’t it? For Madeleine to have a blazing love affair that made her so passionate she couldn’t keep herself apart from her lover, one that lifted her up and turned her into a great beacon of energy.
“You were kissing him in these doorways?”
“Kissing, holding, pressing myself to him.”
“Show me.”
He loved the burning desire in her eyes—the fact that she appeared to want her husband as much as the lover of which she spoke, the fact that Hugo was driving her crazy. Was she grateful to him for having this fantasy? There was that sense blended in with her desire—the feeling that she wanted to reward him for having a kink, a fetish about her sexual liberation.
She paused briefly, as though recalling her doorway liaisons. Then she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, surprising him with her strength and assertiveness, pulling him to her, her mouth closing against his, her lips crushing his, sucking them as her hands slipped up to cradle his head.
Hands falling naturally to her waist, he wondered at the soft heat of her mouth, the sweetness of her lips, the ferocity of her kiss. She tasted of sweet liquor, accented by the unmistakable bitterness of tobacco smoke. It almost made it feel as though he was kissing another woman—emphasizing to Hugo that Madeleine had been experiencing a different life, albeit for one night only.
“He was a good kisser?” Hugo breathed as they parted, holding her firmly, his hands just above her hips, locking her there standing between his thighs.
“He was. Not so good as you, but he made me feel all… melty inside.”
“Melty,” Hugo nodded.
She pulled him to her again, kissing him, seeking his reassurance that he still wanted her, still needed her, still loved her even though these lips had been courting another.
He stood up, continuing their kiss, his hand reaching around her head, feeling her silky hair, holding her against him as he sucked on her lips, her tongue, pressing his nose against hers.
“Was he annoyed that you didn’t let him do anything more than kiss you in doorways?” Hugo asked her.
“No,” she said. “He asked me for another date, though.”
Hugo looked up at her. “I thought the guy was supposed to wait a day or two before he asked you something like that?”
Madeleine shrugged, “It is the 21st Century now, sweetie.”
He nodded, then kissed his way down her neck, adoring her heat, her velvet skin, the fragrance she’d reapplied on her way up in the elevator. Then he was kissing down her chest, pushing his face into her cleavage, shoving down her dress to reveal that black sheer bra.
“Are you disappointed?” he asked her. “You bought fancy underwear for him… you shaved your pussy.”
She said, “I bought that for you. I shaved for you.”
“For me?”
“Lucy pointed out a few websites about your…condition.”
“My condition?”
“It said guys like you enjoy preparing their wives for dates, having the idea that their wives are dressing
“You were with him a very long time,” he said. “Are you sure you only kissed him?”
Flames were flickering in her dark eyes. “I kissed him, he kissed me, we kissed,” she spoke slowly, and he watched her lips as she formed the words, in awe that she had actually made out with another man.
He knew she was telling the truth this time. He could feel it.
“He walked me home,” she said, and he regretted not being able to see the date escort her back to this building, see who he was, whether he was worthy. “It took a while to get here. We kept stopping in doorways.”
“Stopping in doorways? Why?”
“Because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
Hugo felt so strange. He felt as though his chest cavity contained nothing but a carousel, one of the bright rowdy fairground varieties with flashing lights and horses rising and falling as the whole thing revolved. This was exactly what he wanted, wasn’t it? For Madeleine to have a blazing love affair that made her so passionate she couldn’t keep herself apart from her lover, one that lifted her up and turned her into a great beacon of energy.
“You were kissing him in these doorways?”
“Kissing, holding, pressing myself to him.”
“Show me.”
He loved the burning desire in her eyes—the fact that she appeared to want her husband as much as the lover of which she spoke, the fact that Hugo was driving her crazy. Was she grateful to him for having this fantasy? There was that sense blended in with her desire—the feeling that she wanted to reward him for having a kink, a fetish about her sexual liberation.
She paused briefly, as though recalling her doorway liaisons. Then she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, surprising him with her strength and assertiveness, pulling him to her, her mouth closing against his, her lips crushing his, sucking them as her hands slipped up to cradle his head.
Hands falling naturally to her waist, he wondered at the soft heat of her mouth, the sweetness of her lips, the ferocity of her kiss. She tasted of sweet liquor, accented by the unmistakable bitterness of tobacco smoke. It almost made it feel as though he was kissing another woman—emphasizing to Hugo that Madeleine had been experiencing a different life, albeit for one night only.
“He was a good kisser?” Hugo breathed as they parted, holding her firmly, his hands just above her hips, locking her there standing between his thighs.
“He was. Not so good as you, but he made me feel all… melty inside.”
“Melty,” Hugo nodded.
She pulled him to her again, kissing him, seeking his reassurance that he still wanted her, still needed her, still loved her even though these lips had been courting another.
He stood up, continuing their kiss, his hand reaching around her head, feeling her silky hair, holding her against him as he sucked on her lips, her tongue, pressing his nose against hers.
“Was he annoyed that you didn’t let him do anything more than kiss you in doorways?” Hugo asked her.
“No,” she said. “He asked me for another date, though.”
Hugo looked up at her. “I thought the guy was supposed to wait a day or two before he asked you something like that?”
Madeleine shrugged, “It is the 21st Century now, sweetie.”
He nodded, then kissed his way down her neck, adoring her heat, her velvet skin, the fragrance she’d reapplied on her way up in the elevator. Then he was kissing down her chest, pushing his face into her cleavage, shoving down her dress to reveal that black sheer bra.
“Are you disappointed?” he asked her. “You bought fancy underwear for him… you shaved your pussy.”
She said, “I bought that for you. I shaved for you.”
“For me?”
“Lucy pointed out a few websites about your…condition.”
“My condition?”
“It said guys like you enjoy preparing their wives for dates, having the idea that their wives are dressing
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