She nodded frantically, one hand clapped over her mouth to muffle herself, the other reaching behind to grip my wrist. It gave her leverage to meet me thrust for thrust.
My eyes rolled back. “God, you’re tight. So fucking tight.”
She moaned behind her palm.
I leaned over her back, lips grazing her ear, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “You’re my wife. You belong to me. Every filthy photo on that phone is proof.”
Auri dropped her hand to support herself on the counter, breathing erratically.
“My favorite picture was you with your mouth wide open and my cum on your tongue.”
She moaned.
“Quiet,” I warned, fucking her slow and deep, driving every word in with my hips. “Be. A. Good. Girl.”
She quivered around me.
“Let me put my cum in you and fuck you full of it, baby.” She clenched hard around me, a high whine escaping her mouth like she was about to explode. I fucked her harder, gripping the back of her neck, giving me more control. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You.”
“Who owns this sweet little cunt?”
“You do. You do, mon dominant.” Her whole body tensed. Her eyes slammed shut. “Callum—fuck?—”
“Say it again,” I demanded, thrusting hard. “Say my name like that again.”
“Callum,” she sobbed, covering her mouth again.
“I can’t get enough of you,” I growled.
Her body clenched around me. She was close.
“I know you’re gonna come,” I said through gritted teeth. “You want to. Even if they’re right outside. Isn’t that right, mo chridhe?”
She came like she’d been waiting for it since we left the vineyard. I wasn’t far behind. I slammed into her once, twice, then spilled into her with a groan, forehead pressed to the back of her neck, her breath ragged and shaking.
We stayed like that for one heartbeat. Two. Her forehead dropped to the mirror. My hand slid up her back, not to hold her down—but to keep her steady.
“You okay?” I asked softly.
She nodded. “I just—God. I love you.”
I kissed her shoulder. She bent to pull her underwear back up and turned to face me with an unrepentant smile.
“You’re insane,” she whispered.
“You started it.”
She kissed me again, slower this time, sweeter.
My wife started smoothing her dress like it could unwrinkle the fabric, somehow managing to fix her hair without looking in the mirror, pinching at the flush in her cheeks.
“You good?” I asked quietly, refastening my trousers.
“I’m married and freshly fucked,” she said with a laugh. “Of course I’m good.”
I nearly kissed her again, but there wasn’t time.
