I try to rub my legs together, like that will ease the pressure building inside me.
“I’ll give you what you need,” he promises.
I jolt as his fingers drag through my soaked folds. I’m not above begging my husband to fuck me, but I know Jensen. If I push him, he’ll only drag out the pleasure longer. So I bite my lip, focusing on a spot on the tiles beneath me, waiting for his touch.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful than you do lying here. My captive, ready for me to breed you.” He presses a kiss to my pussy, his tongue flattening against me before he slides the tip inside.
I gasp, my fingers wrapping around the stool legs, like that can ground me. Sparks are dancing behind my eyes, every inch of me alight and alive.
“Thank you for trusting me with your body, Mia,” he murmurs, teasing through my folds again like he’s trying to leave my taste on him. I try to lift my pussy toward him, thrusting my ass up off the stool, desperately. I need something to ease the friction inside me, but my husband is not in a hurry.
He carefully parts me and strokes through my folds before he pinches my clit hard enough to make my walls clench. “This is a gift I don’t deserve, but I’ll claim it anyway.”
There’s a beat where everything feels like it hangs in the air. There’s the rustle of clothing, then something presses against my entrance.
Hard, solid. Unyielding.
My mouth is dry while the rest of me is vibrating with anticipation. He doesn’t push inside me, just holds the tip there, ready. My ragged breath echoes in my ears like I’m underwater.
Put it in me.
Why is he waiting?
I’m sure I’m dripping onto the cushioned stool beneath my hips. I groan, almost biting the wood under my chin in frustration.
I’m going to detonate just from this, and he’s not even inside me yet.
“You’re so fucking wet for me.” The pressure at my entrance vanishes, and I almost growl with frustration.
I twist to look at him, but the stools wobble. His hand wraps around my hip—a warning to stay still or an attempt to steady me, I’m not sure which.
“Jensen,” I hiss his name, half-warning, half-plea.
He chuckles.
Fuckingchuckles.
“Listen to that frustration. You’re so desperate for me you can’t think straight.” I let my head flop over the edge of the stool,sucking in air that doesn’t want to reach my lungs. “You want me inside you, don’t you?”
His fingers tease through my heat and my insides fist around nothing.Give me something, Jensen. Please.
He drags the tip of his cock through my slick folds, coating himself in my arousal. I take a shaky breath and brace. The blunt, thick head pulses against me, ready and searing between my folds. Just one push forward and he’ll be inside me.
“Ready, baby?” I make a garbled sound that isn’t human. I’m too hot, too sensitive, too everything. “I need the words, Mia. I need to know you want me to fuck you.”
“Jensen!” I snap.
He thrusts into me in one hard, claiming push. It robs the air from my lungs, the sound from my throat too. He’s not just fucking me. He’s owning me.
I gasp at the bite of pain, the stretch burning as my body adjusts to his thick, heavy intrusion. The tiles beneath me swim, the stools rock as he pulls back, only to drive deeper into me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and hang onto the legs like a lifeline as he fucks me like he’s trying to plant his seed in my uterus wall with force alone.
He fucks me with single-minded ferocity, rough with his cock, his fingers bruising my hips with every pulse of him. I let go of thought, of everything but the feeling of him buried inside me.
His murmured affirmations keep me anchored to him as he drives deeper and harder into my soaked heat.
“Your body was made to take me, Mia. Every hard inch of me.” And he is hard. He’s an unmistakable presence. I feel stretched, full. Deliciously so. “You have no idea what it does to me to see you laid out, bound, and at my mercy while I breed your pretty cunt.”
