31. Royce
My cock strained against her bare ass and I paused, desperately attempting to regain some resemblance of self-control before I fucked her like a madman for all to see.
She ground against my cock and rasped in a hoarse voice, “Please, husband, fuck me. Hard.”
My control shattered. Bending her over, her palms braced against the glass, my hands pushed her dress up. I pressed my body against hers, my cock pushing against the soft curve of her ass. Pressing my lips to her delicate neck, I enjoyed the feel of her racing pulse.
Licking her collarbone, I brought my palms to her round ass and whispered, “Ready, wife?”
She glanced over her shoulder, eyes connecting with mine, and a small whimper escaped her.
“Y-yes.” Her red lips parted in an O shape, and her eyes hazed with lust.
This woman—my wife—was mine. Her breasts. Her ass. Her pussy. All fucking mine. I reached around and parted her thighs, sliding my finger past her folds. She was soaked. So fucking wet that my fingers were drenched within seconds.
She was intoxicating, like a drug that never left your system.
I pushed in deeper, and her pussy clenched around my fingers. Her head fell backward, watching me over her shoulder through heavy eyelids, and her cheeks flushed. With my free hand, I fisted her hair and tugged it back, aware others from the party were watching. They could barely see us though. Only our silhouettes would be visible with how I’d dimmed the lights.
Her pussy strangled my fingers, eager for more as I worked her up. Her moans grew louder, her ass pushing against me.
Then, without warning, I retreated my fingers and brought them to her mouth. Her lips parted and she sucked them clean. Fucking beautiful.
Still gripping her hair with one hand, I slid my rock-hard cock along her folds, then slammed into her. She was tight, her walls closing around my cock like a vise.
Her moans vibrated straight to my chest as I fucked her hard. She felt like heaven. One that I had no right to but was grateful for. What remained of my control disintegrated as I fucked her relentlessly. She matched each one of my thrusts with a whimper.
Worried I’d break her and aware that pregnancy might make her sensitive, I forced myself to ease up, brushing kisses along her shoulders and loosening my hold in her hair.
“More,” she whimpered, then gulped audibly, her throat working hard. I shouldn’t have been surprised—Willow was not the type to be underestimated—but I still found myself chuckling.
Happy to oblige, I picked up my pace as I pounded into her. Her soft moans turned into gasping, urgent cries. She was close. I felt it as if it were my own orgasm. I turned her head another inch so I could be the one to see her face as she shattered with pleasure.
Her green eyes glazed with desire and her mouth parted as I fucked her faster and deeper. With a final cry, I felt her fall apart, her pussy milking me for all I had.
A shudder rippled down my spine and I followed her over the edge. The most powerful orgasm of my life cut through me and I blew my load right into her tight pussy. Fuck. Me.
Her body slumped back into me, seeking my comfort. I turned her toward me, running my hands along her thighs and her hips and her shoulders, and took her mouth in a searing kiss. She was going to be the death of me.