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With a deep growl, he slammed home. His cock swelled and I felt the gush of his load as he pumped it into me. His lips covered mine, and I held on as he attacked my mouth. It took a while, but he softened, then pulled out. When he was done, he slid his fingertips through the cum that was starting to cool on my stomach, then slipped it into my hole. A dirty thrill zipped through me, and he grinned.
“Little extra never hurts. I want you full,” he said, his deep voice sending goose bumps streaking across my body.
“More, Daddy. Please,” I said. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was asking for, but he smiled—something that was happening more often—and carefully grabbed my hips. It must have occurred to him how roughly he’d been treating me while he’d fucked me because as harsh as that had been, he was gentle now as he turned me. I heard the chair slide closer to the desk as he sat in it, and then his lips were on my hole, tongue drilling into me as desperately as his dick had. He sucked, and I shuddered.
As much as he wanted to stuff me with his cum, I was pretty sure he was eating out the mixture of us right now. I had no idea how long he spent toying with my hole, using his tongue to clean up every drop he’d spilled into me, but after a while I was hard again and panting as I pushed back against him, seeking more.
“I love my horny little wife,” he growled before shocking me by plunging his stiff cock deep into my ass again. “I’m gonna fill this pussy good.”
“Yes, Husband,” I said with a laugh as he thrust so hard he rattled the drawers on the desk.
We spent the night that way. He would fuck me, then eat me out until he was ready to go again. I didn’t think he had really thought through his whole fantasy of stuffing me full of his cum, since he kept sucking it right back out of me, but I didn’t mind.
Every minute was bliss.
My limbs wouldn’t work by the time Colt lifted me into his arms hours later. We were both naked—my clothes having been destroyed by his unforgiving hands at some point, his suit simply scattered, waiting for me—or the cleaning lady—to pick the pieces up at some point. Colt liked to see me dusting things occasionally, but he seemed to realize I had no idea what I was doing with the house, which was good, otherwise everything would go downhill fast. I snuggled against his chest, and he didn’t put me on my feet until we were in his shower.
He held me close and washed me off, being gentle when he used the detachable showerhead to rinse my hole. He washed my hair for me, and when we were finished in the shower, he took the time to wrap me in a towel, then sit me on the sink counter and dry me off.
We didn’t talk while he worked on me, but he had a soft look in his eyes, and I’d never felt so fucking spoiled in my entire life. At some point sadness began to settle in on me, and I wasn’t sure why, but the longer I looked at him, the reason dawned on me.
This was going to end.
Eventually he was going to kick me to the curb—maybe with all those expensive dresses, or even worse, without them—and that would be it. It might feel like I had a kind and caring husband, but there was no ring on my finger. Hell, he was married to someone else.
He frowned. “Are you okay, Princess?”
“Fine,” I said, then forced a smile.
He scooped me up again, carrying me to his bed. He took the towel, and I crawled under the soft blankets naked, but fear had sunk its fangs into me, and I was tense when he shut off the light and slid in at my side. He wrapped his arms around me and grunted, clearly questioning what was going on.
“Husband?” I whispered into the darkness.
“Hmm?” he asked.
“Colt?” I started again. This seemed like a time when I should use his name.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, giving me a squeeze. Not wife or baby girl or any of the other things he called me—just baby. I loved that if we were Quin and Colt, I still got to belong to him, and some of the fear backed off a smidge.
Running my fingers over his strong arms, I leaned against his chest. “I like you.”
He kissed my shoulder. “I would hope so. I’m your husband.”
I slapped his arm, and he grunted in agitation.
“Do you feel like you’re going to be done with me anytime soon? Because I’m really happy with you. You do a good job as a husband, and I feel safe right now.” My chest squeezed. That was the crux of the matter. I felt safe and I wasn’t sure if I should. How much of my heart should I be keeping out of this?
He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, his beard tickling my skin.
“I need to know if I should be going with this or forcing myself back to reality,” I murmured.
“Don’t worry so much,” he said, shaking me around a little.
“Colt, I need a real answer.” I sounded intense and couldn’t do a damned thing about it because this was serious.
He was quiet for so long I began to wonder if he was sleeping. “You’re not going anywhere. I won’t allow it,” he said.
Every bone in my body melted into a relieved puddle, and I rolled in his embrace to press my lips to his.
