My lashes flutter as he starts to drag my pants down. I should have probably worn underwear.
“You wear all your outfits like armor, but this one,” He groans, a hand smoothing over my bare backside, “No panties?”
“I wore a bra,” I point out.
He chuckles, the sound warm.
I am trying really hard not to be turned on but there’s no denying the wetness between my legs. He yanks a bit harder until my sweats pool around my feet and then he leans down and taps my calf, asking without words for me to lift my foot.
I do and then do the same on the other side. I hear the swish of material as he grabs the sweats and tosses them to the side.
Bare for him and bent over the pool table, I’m at his mercy and it just makes me hotter, wetter, more aroused. My pussy clenches, that ache returning tenfold, like my body is punishing me for not letting ithave him last night or any type of release for that matter.
“You’re already soaked, kitten,” His voice comes out strained, “Is it pissing me off that gets you going?”
I stay quiet. My willpower isn’t as strong as it was before. Not when I’m already clenching and at the verge of begging for it.
“Did you fuck with my car because I didn’t fill this greedy cunt last night?” He cups me, groaning as he smears my wetness over his hand, “Are you that needy, Olivia? Need my cock that badly?”
My teeth sink into my lower lip as I push back on his hand, earning that delicious chuckle from him again.
“My needy little wife,” He praises before his hand pulls back and reconnects with my ass cheek.
I let out a loud moan, the spasm in my pussy almost enough to force an orgasm.
“You want it that bad, then fine. You can have my cock, Olivia. You want me to fuck you, fill up this needy cunt until I’m dripping down your thighs, I’ll do it. I’ll let you lie to yourself, tell yourself you don’t want me as much as I want you, but you and I both know the truth of it.” He yanks me up, spins me and his hands instantly go for the sweater, tugging it over my head before his fingers hook into the bridge of my bra between my breasts.
He’s rough as he tugs, the bra biting into my skin.
“You’ll snap it,” I warn.
“That’s the point.” He growls before he yanks hard, the stitching and fabric popping and snapping anddoes it again, the material finally snapping in two.
With my arms down, the straps slide right off. He steps back, eyes traveling down the length of me, his thumb swiping over his bottom lip before he reaches for my cheek.
I hold still as best as I can, but I can feel my body trembling, my knees shaking as the ache only blooms bigger, hotter.
His thumb moves over my cheek and comes away covered in pink glitter.
“Stunning,” His voice scratches, the deep timbre rising goose bumps on my flesh, dropping the thumb to my nipple, smearing the glitter over the peaked bud.
“Malakai,” I breathe his name, needing him.
His eyes bounce to mine, the sound of his name on my lips seeming to pull him apart at the seams.
He lunges for me, his mouth crashing against mine in the next breath. His fingers thread into my hair, holding me to him, the other going to the nape of my neck as he manipulates me into a position that allows his tongue to go deeper. He kisses me like he’s starved, pouring his entire being into it. And all I can do is hold on, kissing him back just as hard and heavy.
He devours me entirely and doesn’t break the kiss when his hands start to move down me. He grasps my waist, lifts and throws me down onto the pool table. Balls scatter as the whole table shifts with the momentum, his body slotting into the cradle of my thighs the moment my elbows catch myself on the top.
I gasp before my eyes roll back at the grind of his cock, even still covered, it feeds the fire inside of me,begging for more.
“Fuck me, Malakai,” I demand, nails scraping across the felt of the table.
His jaw pops as he grinds his teeth and then he begins to undress. His fingers move lazily over the buttons of his shirt before he tugs it off, along with the jacket and then he unbuttons his pants. I can see the outline of his cock, the length of him straining against his slacks.
“Such a greedy little brat,” He muses as he shoves out of his pants, shoes and socks, leaving him as bare as me.
He really is a damn work of art. All muscles carved as if made from stone. I want to lick him.
