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I try to slow my pace as I lick between her folds and find her clit. But I can’t. Every pant she makes, every moan, every cry that brings her closer to orgasm is feeding my own addiction.
And then she’s gripping my hair, screaming my name, as she comes around my tongue.
One orgasm isn’t enough; I want more. So immediately I start licking again.
“Sebastian, I want your cock. Please.”
I grin. She’s right. I need to give her more than just my tongue.
I stand and shove her shirt up, needing to taste her breasts as her fingers fumble against my zipper.
Her nipples are hard and pointed. She’s not wearing a bra beneath her shirt. I’m not even sure if the woman owns a bra, which makes me happy.
“Please,” Millie says again, her voice full of need as she grabs at my hips.
I lean in close to her mouth as my tongue traces her full lips. “Be careful what you ask for, Millie. Once I start again, I won’t stop.”
Her cheeks blush. “Good, I don’t want you to stop.”
I pull a condom out of my back pocket before I push my jeans down. I sheath myself and barely push at her entrance, waiting.
“Fuck me, Sebastian. Show me how good it feels to be fucked by a King. Remind me what it’s like to be claimed by a man who’s addicted to me.”
I give her a devilish grin. “You think you know what it felt like to be fucked by me before, but you have no idea. I was holding back. This time I’ll give you everything.”
I slam into her body with my last word so hard that the table she’s lying on shakes roughly, her arms raise over her head, pushing back against the floor to ceiling window behind her to keep from slamming her head into the glass. I might have gone too far already.
But when the seductive gleam returns to her eyes, I know that she likes this new roughness. This animalistic desire to fuck her no matter the consequences. The uncontrollable nature of not even being able to make it to the bed down the hallway before I have her.
I thrust into her again, this thrust just as punishing as the first.
“More!” Millie screams.
Again I thrust, somehow sinking deeper into her, before pulling all the way out and doing it again and again. The wine glass shakes roughly next to her on the table.
Alcohol used to be my addiction, but I beat it. I got clean and healthy. Millie is my new one, but I’m not sure I’ll ever want to beat this new addiction.
I grab the glass and lift it to my lips.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice more panicked now that I hold the glass in my hand than when I started fucking her.
“I’m not going to drink.”
She exhales.
“Technically, I already broke my sobriety the night we got married. And then again when Oaklee forced me to drink, but I haven’t since. I have no desire to drink.”
I bring the glass to her lips and pour the wine over them, letting a little spill out. I trace the cool liquid down her breasts over her nipples that somehow harden even more at my touch.
Then I lean down and kiss her. “You’re my new addiction.”
One final thrust sends us both over the edge into our orgasms. Millie screams my name as pleasure overcomes her senses. I roar my own ecstasy. I slow my thrusts, but at the last thrust, the table creaks.
Millie grabs my arms, and I catch her hips, but it’s too late, and we tumble to the floor in a pile of broken wood.
“Oh my god,” we both laugh. This destruction feels as much an end as a new beginning. A table that I’ve sat at thousands of times is now gone. My routine and control—gone.
We keep laughing, my head resting against her chest as we lie naked in the rubble. But it won’t stop me from wanting her again and again and again.
