Chapter Twenty-Four
Flynn
We arrive home. The second she steps into the mansion, I yank her to me, slamming her back against the wall. My mouth crashes on hers, hard, punishing, devouring. She whimpers, hands fisting my collar, shoving. I dodge, hoist her over my shoulder like prey.
“No, Flynn! Stop!” Her fists pound my back, sharp and desperate.
“You thought sucking my cock under that table came free?” I chuckle, black and vicious, striding up the stairs. “Consequences, wife. Mine to dish out.”
I kick my bedroom door open. Her eyes flick to the unicorn pillows, fairy lights—her petty rebellion still scattered like trophies.
“You kept everything,” she whispers, breath hitching.
I fling her onto the mattress. “It’s our room now. Keep your unicorns and twinkly lights. They look cute next to where I’ll ruin you.”
I fist her hair, drag her to the bed’s edge. It’s high, her face level with my hips.
“Open those pretty lips again.” My voice is gravelly and commanding. Belt clinks free; zipper rasps. I grip my cock, thick, veined, throbbing, and pump twice. She licks her lips involuntarily, cheeks burning.
“Open,” I snarl. “I’m gonna watch my cock bulge that throat. You’re gonna choke on every inch and thank me for it.”
She parts her lips, trembling. I rub the head across them, smearing precome like gloss. Then I thrust, deep, relentless. She gags, throat convulsing around me, tears springing instantly.
“That’s it.” I tighten my grip on her hair, rocking slow. Her neck arches over the edge, head hanging, the perfect angle. I see it: the ridge of my cock stretching her throat, pulsing under pale skin. Fuck.
I drive deeper, hips snapping. She struggles for air, hands clawing my thighs. I bury to the hilt, hold. Her throat flutters wildly; my cock twitches. I swallow hard, abs clenching, balls tight.
“Hold your fucking breath, trouble.” One more second and I slide out. She gasps, coughing, chest heaving.
Air barely fills her lungs before I slam back in, bottoming out. The bulge throbs visibly; tears stream down her temples into her hair.
I grab her hand, forcing her fingers to trace the outline on her throat. “Feel that? That’s me owning you. Stretching this pretty neck till you’re moulded to my cock.”
I press our joined fingers harder. She gags, body arching, fresh tears spilling. Her nipples strain against her shirt, thighs clenching, hate and heat twisted tight.
“So fucking beautiful when you break,” I growl, thrusting shallow now, chasing the edge. “My perfect little choke-slut wife.”
She moans, arching her back like a bow drawn for war.
The sound vibrates straight to my balls; I nearly erupt down her throat.
I yank free, breath ragged, cock glistening with her spit, veins throbbing angrily.
“I’d love flooding that throat, painting you white.
But no, you’re gonna leak me the rest of the day, wife. Feel me dripping with every step.”
I haul her up by the arms, crush my mouth to hers. Taste myself, salt, sin, us, on those plush, swollen lips, red as fresh blood. She tears her shirt off, fabric ripping in her haste; I attack her pants, buttons scattering like bullets, yanking them down in one brutal tug.
The wet spot on the lace? A flood. Slick trails down her thighs. I smirk, dark and triumphant. “Look at you. Soaked for your husband.”
“Open for me.” The order snaps out, a primal command.
She burns for it, eyes glazed, chest heaving.
She obeys like a good girl gone feral. Rolls onto the bed, hooks thumbs in her panties, slides them down slow, teasing the air with her scent.
Then spreads wide, knees bent, thighs trembling, pussy flushed and glistening, clit swollen, begging.
Embarrassment stains her cheeks pink, but she holds the pose. Good. She’ll crave spreading for me, like air, soon enough.
I grip her thighs, fingers digging into soft flesh, leaving white prints that bloom red, and drag her to the edge; her ass hangs off, perfect for ruin. I rub my cock through her folds, coating in her honey, teasing her entrance till she whimpers.
“Flynn,” she breathes, voice cracked open.
I splay my hand low on her belly, feel the heat radiating, and slam inside.
One merciless thrust. She screams, a raw mix of pleasure-pain echoing off walls, as her walls yield, stretching hot and velvet around me.
Fuck. She’s molten silk, gripping like a fist, sucking me deeper.
I bottom out, balls slapping her ass, and hold, savouring the pulse of her around my length.
Her heat is a goddamn embrace, tight and fluttering, every ridge of me mapped by her. I’m lost, drowning, in the clutch.
I thrust hard, rhythmic hammers, palm pressing firm on her belly. There: the bulge, my cock nudging under skin with each drive. Her tits bounce wild, heavy and perfect; I lean in, latch onto a nipple, suck brutal, tongue lashing, then I bite the peak till she shrieks, back bowing off the mattress.
Her hands fly to my back, nails raking. “Make me bleed, trouble.” The words rumble from my chest with an animal need.
She obeys, digs deep, carving fiery trails down muscle. Skin splits; blood wells hot, stinging sweet, mixing with sweat. The pain? Fuel. I fuck harder, hips snapping like pistons, the bed frame groaning protest. Her moans fill the room, high, broken, mine, syncing with wet slaps of skin.
My free hand finds the plug, the jewelled base peeking between her cheeks. I press, twist. She yelps, her body clamping viciously, pussy spasming around my cock, ass fluttering at the intrusion.
“Fuck, so tight with both holes stuffed.” I groan, voice shredded. “My perfect, greedy wife, filled to the point of breaking.” I thrust, my cock savage. I pull back to the tip, slam back while working the plug, slow in, out, matching the rhythm. Her walls ripple in waves, sucking me greedily.
“Oh my God… Flynn!” Her legs quake, thighs trembling around my hips, toes curling, tension coils visible, abs clenching, breath hitching.
I twist the plug deeper, angle my hips to grind her G-spot.
Move my dick out slow, then pound in, burying it to the hilt.
Her belly bulges pronounced now, rhythmic with each invasion.
I push down low, hard, feeling myself throb inside her.
She whimpers, hips bucking wild to meet me, chasing the edge.
Her hand slams over mine, her fingers lacing, catching the glint of our rings.
I force our joined palms harder on the swell.
“Feel it, Autumn. My feral goddess. Feel how deep I own you, stretching this belly like I’ll breed you tonight.
” I lean in, forehead to hers, breath mingling hot.
“I’d slaughter the fucking world to keep this cunt mine.
Every drop of blood, every scream to keep you here, forever. ”
Her eyes snap to me, wide, wrecked, lips parted on a gasp. Pupils blown, tears falling into her hair.
Beautiful.
I slam harder, relentless, twirling the plug vicious, in circles, pressing deep. Her body arches like a live wire.
“Flynn!” Her orgasm detonates, she convulses hard, walls milk me in ruthless pulses, squeezing like she’ll never let go. Juices flood hot around my cock; her thighs lock, shaking violently. The sight of her bulging under our hands, rings pressed, body shattering, snaps my control.
I roar, slam once more, deep as anatomy allows, and unload. Ropes of cum flood her, pulsing thick and endless, marking her womb-deep. Every. Fucking. Drop. I grind through it, prolonging her spasms till she’s sobbing my name, oversensitive and claimed.
My body collapses atop hers, elbows digging into the mattress beside her face, propping me just enough not to crush her. Sweat slicks our skin; her chest heaves under me, tits grazing my ink with every ragged breath.
Her eyes meet mine, heavy-lidded, glazed in afterglow, body still quivering from the ruins I wrought.
“You really change when we fuck,” she says, a small smirk curling those swollen lips.
“Do I?” I kiss her forehead, a soft contrast to the storm, then straighten, still buried deep. Her walls flutter lazily around me, relaxing, stretched to my shape. Milked dry but greedy for more.
“Yes. You turn into this animal.” Her smile widens, teasing. “And you called me a slut.”
I smirk, glance down where we’re joined, my cock glistening with us, her pussy puffy and leaking. “Aren’t you? When we fuck.”
She bites her lip, fuck, and my cock twitches inside her. Here we go again.
I pull out slowly; she winces, thighs trembling. Leaning in, I press a kiss to her slick folds, tasting our mess, then head to the bathroom. “Stay put with my cum inside you, like a good wife.”
Her cheeks flame deeper.
I twist the tap on the massive tub, deep enough to drown in. Hot water thunders, steam rising thick. I drizzle oils to ease the ache I carved into her muscles.
She hasn’t moved, sprawled like a sacrificed goddess. I scoop her up with my arms under her knees and back and carry her bridal, her head lolling on my shoulder. I head to the tub and lower her into the water; she melts, a sigh escaping as heat envelopes her sore limbs.
“Ass up, trouble.” I perch on the tub’s edge.
Her eyes snap wide, and panic flashes. She shakes her head fast, water sloshing.
“I’m not fucking your ass.” Yet. “Just removing the plug.”
Relief floods her face; she turns, knees on the submerged bench, ass breaching the surface. I part her cheeks and see the jewelled base winking. Water beads on her skin like diamonds.
Gently I grip the base, ease it out. Slow twist, stretch; she whimpers, her hole fluttering closed behind it. I chuck the plug into the walk-in shower with a clatter, and she sinks back, eyes fluttering shut, submerged to her neck.
I tap her shoulder. “Slide forward.”
She obeys, scooting in the water. I slip in behind, legs bracketing hers. Her ass nestles against my cock; the glide of wet skin has me half-hard in an instant.
Fuck.