My hands tremble as I fumble with the buckle. The leather slips through my fingers as I quickly unbutton his pants. They fall to the floor as his hips press against mine, his hardness evident. I pull down his boxers, freeing his cock. It springs free, hard and thick. Wrapping my hand around him—my fingers not quite able to meet—I stroke him from base to tip. I swirl my thumb over the sensitive head, and he moans as his hips buck toward my touch.
Chris grips my thighs and hoists me around his waist, my legs instinctively wrapping around him. His hardness presses against me, and I whimper with need as he pushes my back to the coolness of the wall. He pulls my panties to the side, and with a single, powerful thrust, he drives into me as he pins me to the wall.
“Fuck, Daddy!” I cry out, the sudden intrusion both painful and pleasurable. He stretches me quickly, filling me completely as he drives into me with feral intensity.
“This is Daddy’s pussy,” he growls, his voice laced with possession and desire. “Forever. I’m going to spend a lifetime stretching it out and fucking ruining you.”
My back slides along the wall as his hips repeatedly slam against mine with a force that steals my breath. Each thrust drives him deeper and stretches me wider. The sensation is overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that leaves me gasping and begging for more.
Chris’s hands grip my thighs, his fingers digging into my flesh as he holds me in place, his body a relentless machine of pleasure. He fucks me hard, his hips moving with a sense of urgency, the sound of our flesh slapping together filling the room.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, so wet for Daddy,” he groans, his breath hot against my neck. “This pussy is mine, isn’t it, baby? All mine to stretch, to fill, to ruin.”
I whimper, my body clenching around him as I nod. With a final, powerful thrust, he sends me tumbling over the edge. “Yes! Daddy! Yours.”
Chris carries me to the bed, tossing me onto the soft mattress, a giggle escaping my lips. He fists my panties, shredding the wet, lacy fabric as he tears them from my body, leaving me bare and exposed to his hungry gaze.
Wasting no time climbing back between my splayed thighs, Chris’s body is a hard, muscular weight pressing me into the mattress. He pins my hands to the bed, his grip strong and unyielding, holding me still as he positions himself at my entrance.
With a slow, deliberate thrust, he slides inside me. I gasp, my back arching off the bed as he sinks deep into my sensitive pussy. His lips find mine in a sloppy, passionate kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth as he devours me. Leisurely thrusting into me, he kisses down my neck to my chest.
Chris’s teeth graze my flesh as he nips over my breasts. I whimper, my hips bucking beneath him as I seek more friction, more sensation. Denying me what I want, his cock moves inside me with a unhurried rhythm. I swear, I can feel every ridge and vein rubbing against my sensitive walls, teasing me.
“Please, Daddy…” I beg, needing the release I’m slowly inching toward.
Chris releases my wrists, his hands dusting over my skin with the same languidity he takes my pussy. Reaching my hips, he locks onto them with a sudden, powerful grip. His rough hands holding me in place beneath him, he slams into me with hard, deep thrusts.
The pressure builds inside me, the coil of pleasure tightening in my core as Chris’s cock grows more rigidinside me. His movements become more erratic, his hips moving with a wild, untamed rhythm as he chases his own release. The room fills with the sound of our flesh slapping together, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Come for me, baby,” he grits, his fingers digging painfully hard into my flesh as he slams into me ferociously. “Squeeze your perfect pussy around Daddy. Make me come.”
I feel every inch of him, his cock rubbing against my sensitive walls, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.
Obeying, my body responds to his every command. I come hard, my orgasm exploding through. My body clenches around him with every thrust, my muscles squeezing him, urging him to join me in ecstasy.
Chris roars, his body tensing as he drives in to the hilt, his cock pulsing and twitching inside me. Hot spurts of his cum fill me, marking me as his once again. He holds himself deep, his hips grinding against mine as he rides out his waves of pleasure.
Chris’s arms wrap around me, holding me tight as he presses soft, gentle kisses to my lips, my cheeks, my neck. His aftercare is tender and loving, his touch soothing and reassuring as he holds me close. “I love you, baby,” he whispers, his voice a soft, tender caress. “Forever and always, baby. You’re mine, and I’m yours. Nothing will ever change that.”
The rain has been falling for hours, drumming against the window in heavy, rhythmic spasms. The city outside is blurred, just streaks of light and shadow through the glass, the faint glow of passing headlights beneath us bleeding into the dark.
Chris’s arm is wrapped around my waist, his chest pressed against my back, our legs tangled in the sheets and each other. His breathing is slow and steady. I can feel it in the rise and fall of his chest against my spine and the soft breath feathering over my shoulder.
My ring catches in the faint light coming from the window, winking softly on my finger. Every time I see it, a new rush of warmth moves through me. A quiet awe that this is real. Thathe’sreal. But the longer I stare at it, the heavier it feels.
I love him. God, I do. Fully, fiercely, and without condition. He’s my safe place and my wildness at the same time, the one person who’s seen all my jagged edges and didn’t oncehesitate to love me anyway. But underneath the warmth in my chest, a small, uneasy ache I can’t quite name starts to stir.
It’s not doubt. It’sfear.Because love doesn’t erase the unknown.
I roll in his arms, enough to see his face. The moonlight filters through the rain and casts silver streaks across his skin, highlighting the sharp curve of his jaw and the soft lines at the corners of his eyes. He looks peaceful. This might be the only time he ever does.
“Chris,” I whisper.
He hums low in his throat, that lazy sound he makes when he’s half-asleep. “Hmm?”
“What does being your wife look like?”
His eyes open, slow and heavy-lidded, but there’s an immediate spark in them, sharp even in the dark. “That you’re mine, baby. Forever.”
I manage a small smile. “I figured that part.”
