You Are My Addiction - #3 [18+ UNEDITED]

Chapter Twenty One - The Family Picnic

Digging my knees into his sides, I raised my hip off the mattress— drawn to the thick bulge tenting his sweats. "Fuck...I love Saturday's." He groaned, roughly yanking me lower to where he could work his erection into my heat.

"We're going to be so late..." I managed to moan the words out, even as I impatiently lowered the waist of his sweats, my back arching with every expert roll of his hips.

"Damn right." He growled thrusting into me, fast and deep.

***

Lorraine had slipped away after about half an hour of the several uncomfortable attempts to make conversation with anyone other then me. I felt slightly bad for her when she came to me and told me it was best she just went back home. I felt guilty too, it wasn't fair to ask her to come along and endure my family's dismissal of her, on the off chance that Ariel would crash and I'd be able to shake the crazy bitch a little more.

Watching Aaron and Blake chase the twins around the playground, I carefully peeled back the cling-wrap mum had fitted over the glass tray of half eaten lemon slices. Reaching for them for about the tenth time today, I snatched two particularly large looking squares from the tray. My mouth watered from the scent alone. Mum raised an eyebrow from her seat on the opposite bench. "Since when do you like my lemon slice?" She questioned. Shrugging I bit into the delicious treat, almost moaning out my pleasure.

"I think this batch is just better than the last I tried." Nodding she poured a drizzled of salad dressing over the pile of gourmet lettuce and colourful vegetables she'd prepared.

"If you say so." She added, skilfully tossing the salad. Marianne sat beside mum. Huffing, she slammed a bottle of artificial lemon juice onto the table. "Oh, no lemons?" Mum asked, trying her best to not cringe at the artificial substance Marianne had presented— she hated artificial substitutes for freshly squeezed citrus fruits.

"I know, can you believe it." Folding her arms over her chest, she shook her head. "I ask for lemons and this is what they bloody bring me." Pushing the bottle further away she made a face that shockingly mum mimicked.

"Mum, it's lemon juice. It's practically the same thing, only cheaper." Mark groaned coming up behind his mother, with Roy on his tail. Glaring at both of them, over her shoulder, Marianne ignored them— clearly appalled by her son's reason for presenting this monstrosity. Biting back a smile I polished off my second lemon slice before sneakily reaching for another.

"Either way it'll taste like lemon, I don't see the big issue." Dad added, snagging my lemon slice as he walked around me. Mum's eyes widened in warning. Both Marianne and Mum glared at their respective partners.

"If you know what's good for you Richard, you'll see to it that I have half a dozen lemons in front of me within the next ten minutes." Mum threatened, sliding off the seat and motioning for Marianne to follow.

"You heard the woman." Marianne snapped in Roy's direction. Chuckling I made a move for the tray of lemon slices again. Stealing the tray away, Dad glared at me.

"No more for the traitor." He grumbled, motioning for Roy to lead the way to our cars. Sighing Roy crossed the large parkland strategically, selecting the shortest route to the vehicles. Dad followed, offering him a slice of my tay of lemony joy. Frowning, I slumped down on the bench. Mark shook his head, studying the bottle of artificial lemon extract.

"This is all your fault." I hissed, shocked he gestured to himself innocently.

"Me? I bought her the damn lemon." He defended, not managing to win me over with the stupid look of innocence cast over his features. Sighing he turned and headed towards the twins, Aaron and Blake. My traitorous kids attacked him with hugs— not even sensing what the idiot's decision to buy a bottle of lemon extract had cost their mummy. Mark pointed in my direction and Aaron straightened, looking between us with amusement. Blake clapped Mark on the back and shook his head— informing him that he'd fucked up and it would take a lot more than playing innocent to win the women of this family over.