Work Wife by Dee Ellis

Epilogue

Kolt

One Year Later 

Watching my wife work might be the most distracting part of my day.

Beneath my desk, my dick is hard despite her riding it just before our workday started. She knows I need her to get my day going. And after lunch to keep me going. And sometimes before we leave the office for the day. I cannot get enough of her, but I love every minute of being her greedy, needy husband.

Asking her to lie for me to seal a deal was the best negotiation of my career. Two days into the best merger of my life I almost wrecked things. Thinking for one moment my sweet Karina was some sort of spy or mole was rash and stupid. I almost lost her because of it. Watching her walk away from me and finding out she was ready to quit me and her job scared the shit out of me.

I did what any smart businessman would do—I pleaded for a permanent merger. I asked her to marry me like I should have the first day I knew I loved her. I told her later it was the day we met, but that’s not entirely true. Oh, I wanted her the moment I laid eyes on her, for sure. But I knew I was in love with her when I had a terrible day at the office, and she knew how to make it better.

“What can’t you see but smells like bananas?” she offered a bad monkey joke with a side of coffee and a sticky bun.

“What?” by then I was so enamored with her, I adored her terrible jokes, and knew she only shared them with me.

“A monkey fart,” her silly answer had made me laugh because it was so bad, but she was so damn cute as she giggled.

After almost losing her, I wasted no time in making sure I never risked that again. Finding her at the office ready to walk out for good, I almost lost it. I bent her over my desk and took her hard and rough, as I had dreamt of doing so many workdays before. And then I asked her to marry me.

Two weeks later, we were back at the family estate. No work retreat and no deals to close—but it was the same cast of characters. I wanted all the people there that had made her so happy that first weekend. Fallon pulled together one hell of a wedding—I spared no expense for my bride—and we had a weekend long celebration of becoming husband and wife.

We spent two more weeks out there at the estate because my new bride loved the place so much. I showed her the garden and fucked her surrounded by flowers. And after, I took her to Paris just like we talked about for our fake marriage. A fake marriage that I knew was more real than any relationship I had ever been in before.

“Need anything?” my sweet wife asks as she stands beside me, brushing her fingers through my hair gently.

Closing my eyes, I tilt my head to press my lips to her swollen belly. My son is in there and in just a few more months, I get to meet him. Both our fathers left us when we were little and already, I can’t stand the idea of not knowing my son. I talk to him every single day and tell him like I tell his mother, that he will have whatever his heart desires. I would give anything for my wife and my son—they mean more to me than any deal ever could.

“Need you,” I whisper against her soft belly, hiking her dress up, “come, sit at my desk, wife. Feed me your pussy for lunch, I need to taste your cum.”

Before I finish the command, my sweet wife is seated on my desk, her thighs spread, and bare pussy served up for me to feast on. For a moment, I just admire the pretty pink folds and how wet she gets when I command her to give herself to me. I am gentle with her now while she is pregnant, but my wife turns me into an animal so sometimes, I lose control but she welcomes it.

“Christ you are so pretty, wife,” I hum as I gaze up at her beautiful face, reaching a hand up to tug at the top of her dress so her soft tits spill out, “so pretty and perfect and mine. I am so lucky you married me. Lucky you carry my child and my last name. Lucky you let me have you when I need you. And so lucky I get your terrible jokes and your sweet pussy,” I say, bending my head to lick at her slit to spread her pussy.

“Kolt!” she shouts, hands going to the back of my head as I lift her and bring her to my mouth to suck at her sticky cream.

I eat her to three orgasms, her thighs thrown over my shoulders and her cum staining my beard. When she is soft for me, I bring her astride me and thrust up into her. Sucking a nipple into my mouth, I bounce her on my cock as she mewls and moans. Gripping her ass, I slam her down one last time as I come hard, jerking into her as I suckle at her nipple, rolling my teeth over it.

“Yes,” she gasps, eyes locked on mine as I fill her up.

“Can I get you pregnant right after you have our son? I love how greedy your pussy gets for me and how soft your body gets. Think I might keep you pregnant, wife.”

“Who will take care of you here, if I am always pregnant?” her voice is smiling as she drops to kiss at my lips.

I will keep her pregnant because I love her round body and knowing she will be tied to me forever. And hell, she is greedy for my cock when she’s pregnant. We were all over each other before but now I barely leave the sweet heaven between her legs. Not that you would hear me complain. No place else I'd rather be than tucked deep inside her velvet pussy.

And I want her pregnant because I want her happy. Building our life together is what makes her happy. We found a home together just a few months after we got married and she has put her touch on every single room. I never really had a home like that before and neither did she. One where love touches every single corner of the place. But now we do—and so will our children. Taking care of our son, and as soon as I can get her pregnant again, a daughter, is what will make her happy.

My deal with Holden Hill meant that both of us could take a step back and enjoy our lives. We had more money than we could ever need, and we had beautiful wives at home waiting for us. No need to go balls out—unless it is inside my wife. Now I come to the office just a few times a week, but I always have my sweet, sexy, terrible joke telling, assistant at my side.

“No need for someone to take care of me here, sweetheart,” I assure her with a kiss as we head home where we both want to be.

“Don’t you need an assistant?” she pouts down at me.

My sweet assistant-turned-fake wife—turned real wife—gives me everything I need so she never needs to worry about being replaced. No one could ever take her place at the office or anywhere else.

“Not when I have you, work wife.”

The End