ONE

“Pull my hair. That’s it. Now, call me a whore.” Amber’s voice purred out of her, sexy as she could make it, but it was no use. As soon as the word left her lips, she burst into laughter, and so did Carlos. He fell onto the bed next to her, both of them staring at the ceiling while the bed shook with their guffaws.

She rolled onto her side to face him, running a fingertip from his chin, over his throat, his chest, down to his belly and finally, between his legs. She cupped his half-hard cock, relishing the thickness of it, the weight of his balls beneath. She sighed, not unhappy but slightly disappointed. He looked at her and frowned.

“I’m sorry, baby. I can try again,” Carlos murmured before brushing a kiss over her temple, then pressing his forehead to hers. “I know this is something you really want.”

Her scalp tingled from where he’d tugged her hair. That, at least, he’d done without a problem. She rubbed it gently and frowned, then pulled away until she could look him in the eyes. She loved this man and had for decades. There wasn’t much they couldn’t figure out, if they did it together. Except, apparently, kinky sex.

Amber kissed his mouth. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t also want to do. I want you to know that. Okay? It’s no fun if you’re not into it, too. It shouldn’t be something you feel forced...