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“You like feeling that?” he whispers into the crook of my neck. He draws back a little, then thrusts into me again, and I savor every inch of him, the way his cock strains my walls, makes me feel so fucking full. “You like my cock inside you, kitten? Who knew you were so damn dirty?” He grins at me, and I grin back, knowing my gaze is as hot and hungry as his.
“You did, when you married me,” I whisper, and he laughs, kissing me one more time, slow and hot, before he starts to fuck me in earnest.
He pulls out of me and drives back in with enough force to make me gasp every time. I wrap both arms around his shoulders for balance, my nails digging into his back as I cling to him. He moves faster, drives into me harder, arching upward so that his cock drags along my inner walls with every stroke, driving me wild. When he runs his tip along my G-spot, it’s all I can do not to come on the spot. I find myself panting, begging him for more, and he just smiles the whole time, watching me, encouraging me.
“That’s it, kitten, moan for me. Louder.”
I remember what he told me about being competitive, and I’m surprised to realize how hot the idea makes me. The idea that other people will hear us, know exactly what we’re doing in here. I want them to hear, I realize. I want them to know that I’m Luke’s and he’s mine, at least for this weekend, damn it.
“Fuck yes, right there, fuck,” I cry out, my voice going louder, sharper.
“Are you going to come for me, kitten?” he asks, his voice louder too.
“Let me come for you, husband, please,” I pant.
He finds a steady rhythm, pounding into me again and again, angled so his cock drags right along my G-spot every time. It doesn’t take long for the pressure to build so high I can hardly contain it, but then— “Not until I tell you to, kitten,” he orders, and I can’t help it. A faint cry of frustration escapes me.
He chuckles. “Ask me nicely.”
“Please.” My voice is hot and low near his ear. “Please, husband, I want to come for you. Let me come on your thick cock.”
“Louder.” He teases me again and again, taking me right up to the brink and making me beg at the top of my lungs before, with a smile that could break my heart, he relents. “Good girl, Celia. Come for me now.”
It’s all I can do not to burst. I scream with pleasure and relief all mixed together, as I finally let the orgasm sweep through me. My whole body shakes from the force of it, but Luke just keeps going, fucking me against the window, my bare ass gripped tight in his hands. Before long, I’m near the edge again. This time, he holds me up with one hand and reaches around with the other to slide down and press his thumb against my clit.
It’s too much. I can’t even ask him for permission this time. I scream as the orgasm sweeps through my body, making sparks appear at the edges of my vision. My toes curl, and my legs shake around his waist. My pussy convulses around his shaft. I’m barely able to cling to him, but I manage to, and then I lean in to kiss his neck, the side of his jaw. I hold on tight as he starts to fuck me harder, faster, clearly nearing the edge himself.
“Come for me, husband,” I tell him, purposefully tightening the muscles in my pussy to clench hard around him. “Come for your wife.”
“Celia.” He calls out my name as he finishes, coming deep inside me. I can feel his hot juices spill into me, mixing with my own, and I cry out in pleasure, feeling how close he is to me, how tightly pressed together we are. When he finally steps back and releases my legs, just enough to pull his cock out of me, and let me stand back upright, I stagger a step, and he has to catch me, laughing, around the waist.
I can feel his juices spilling out of me, trickling down my inner thighs. God it’s fucking hot. I tilt my head back to look at him, my eyes half-hooded with lust, and he leans in to claim my mouth in another slow, searing kiss.
“You are the perfect wife,” he whispers when we break apart.
My heart skips a beat. I never knew how much I wanted to hear him say those words. But even now, still trembling from the feeling of his cock inside me, I can’t help but wonder how long this can possibly last.
5
I shower first, mostly because if I don’t, I’m not sure I’ll be able to clear my head enough from that orgasm to function. I make the water hot and let it wash all traces of sex away, even though I swear my skin still smells like him. I stick my face under the stream and pray for it to wash away the dirty thoughts that won’t stop invading. Thoughts of everything else I’d like him to do to me next.
