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He holds an arm behind my back and fucks me harder. “All mine,” he growls in my ear, sounding like he’s losing himself. “All fucking mine. I love your tight little pussy, your moans, your mouth. I want lips around my tip when I come. Will you swallow me?”
“Yes,” I moan, and I can tell I’m losing myself too, losing myself to this beast of a man and the way he can make me feel.
“But first, you’ll say it.”
“No,” I gasp, shivering with delight as he spanks me, pulls my hair.
“I’ll leave my marks if you keep refusing me.”
“Mark all you want. Go ahead, I don’t give a shit. Fuck me harder if you can. See if I care.” Goading him on sends me into a pleasure spiral as he takes the bait, stroking into me harder, firm, rough spanks against my tender ass, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. Getting fucked here in my half-finished donut shop, getting dominated by Nolan as he proves to me that all I really want is for him to slide his cock inside my pussy, it’s too much, it’s overwhelming. But it feels so fucking good, I can’t stop.
“Say it,” he growls in my ear, going faster. I’m moaning now, no more words. “Call me your husband. Say you love taking my thick cock.”
“Nolan,” I whimper, right on the edge. “Fuck me, please fuck me.”
“Say it,” he commands.
“Fuck me, husband.” I gasp, back arching as he reaches around to rub my clit. “Oh my god, fuck me, husband.”
We’re lost in the moment, all conscious thoughts gone, all humanity lost. I’m nothing but a body, nothing but pleasure, as he fills me over and over, until finally I come again in a shivering, twitching mess.
I’m left bent over the table, breathing hard, head on my arms again. I look back over my shoulder and he’s staring at me, stroking himself, his eyes burning with that intensity.
Slowly, I get down on my knees. “Is this what you wanted?” I ask quietly. “You want me down here, right?”
“Yes,” he says, barely holding himself back.
“You want to fuck my mouth?”
“Yes.”
“Say, ‘Please wife. Let me come in your mouth.’ Say it now.”
He moans. “Please, wife. Let me come in your mouth.”
“Tell me you like it.”
“I love the feeling of your lips. I need it.”
“Tell me you want me.”
“I want you. All of you. Every inch of you.”
“Tell me that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours. Damn you, wife.” He steps over and I open my mouth. He moans as he strokes into my lips once, twice, then spills himself down my throat. I groan, swallowing him as fast as I can, before he pulls back out, a long string of spit connected from my tongue to his tip.
“Good husband,” I say, looking up into his eyes.
He pulls me to my feet and crushes my mouth with his own.
We stand there, naked, kissing, for what feels like an hour. Then when he’s done with me, he gets me dressed again, almost lovingly. When that’s done, he puts himself back together.
“Let me,” he says, wiping the counter off.
I watch him from a few feet away. My body feels weak like I ran ten miles. When he’s done straightening, he turns back to me, the passion in his eyes only barely dimmed.
He wants more already.
