His hands grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head, holding me down while he fucked me harder, faster, deeper. The dominance in his grip sent a thrill through me, his fingers bruising just enough to mark me as his. I loved when he got like this, when the wolf showed through and he needed to claim me, mark me, make absolutely sure I knew exactly who I belonged to.
“That’s it,” he growled, his thrusts turning punishing, hips snapping forward with raw power. “Take my cock. You’re mine, all mine. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk, until your pussy is sore and leaking my cum all day. Say it.”
“Yours,” I gasped, my voice breaking as another deep thrust made stars burst behind my eyes. “All yours, Mal. Harder - please, fuck me harder.”
“You drive me fucking insane, little mate. Your body is like...” He paused, thrusting, his face screwed up in concentration. “A temple of desire.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed breathlessly even as pleasure was coiling tighter and tighter in my core, my pussy gripping his cock with every snap of his hips. The ridiculous line pulled me out of the haze for a second, but the heat between us kept building, his thick shaft dragging along my inner walls, hitting spots that made my toes curl. “Did you just call me a temple?”
He looked genuinely offended at my laugh, but his hips never slowed, pounding into me with steady force. The bed framerattled, and his balls slapped against my ass, a sticky sound that echoed in the room. “The book said it was sexy.”
“The book lied.” I pulled one hand free from his grip and grabbed his face, my fingers tangling in his damp hair, bringing him down for a messy, desperate kiss. Our tongues clashed, sloppy and hungry, his stubble scraping my lips raw. I bit his lower lip hard enough to draw a grunt from him, tasting the faint metallic hint of blood. “But don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
He didn’t. His hips snapped faster now, driving into me with single-minded purpose. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room along with my gasps and his groans. I was so wet I could feel it dripping down my thighs, coating his cock and balls, making every slide in and out slick and obscene. My clit throbbed against the base of him, grinding with each plunge, the friction sending sparks up my spine.
The pressure built low in my belly, tension coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust, my muscles tensing like a spring ready to snap. My walls started fluttering around him, clenching and releasing in a rhythm I couldn’t control, milking his dick as if begging for his cum. Heat flushed my skin, nipples tight and aching where they rubbed against his chest hair, every nerve on fire.
“That’s it,” he growled against my mouth, his voice barely human anymore, rough and edged with that wolfish hunger. His breath was hot and ragged on my lips. “I can feel you getting close. So tight around me, squeezing my cock like you never want to let me go. Your pussy’s gonna cream all over me, isn’t it? Soak my dick until it’s dripping.”
His hand slid between our bodies, rough palm pressing against my stomach before his fingers found my clit, swollen and slick. He circled it with his thumb while he continued to thrust deep inside me, the dual sensation hitting me like a punch. Pleasure sparked through every nerve ending, making my thighs quake and my breath hitch in my throat. The added pressure on my clit made everything intensify, the stretch of his cock filling me, the way he bottomed out and ground against my cervix, sending dull throbs deep inside.
“Was that better?” He grunted on my skin, “Different book.”
Fuck yes. God blessed spicy authors for coming up with those sexy dialogues my husband now used in bed.
“Yes.Mal,” I gasped out, my back arching off the bed, pushing my tits up toward him. My free hand clawed at his shoulder, nails leaving red trails on his skin. The tension wound so tight I could barely think, my vision blurring at the edges. “I’m going to - fuck, it’s too much-”
“Come for me.” His voice was a command, all alpha and authority. He pinched my clit lightly, the sting mixing with the building wave, and slammed in harder, his free hand gripping my hip to hold me steady. “Scream my name, let me hear how much you love my cock owning this wet cunt.”
My orgasm hit me hard, crashing over me in waves so intense I actually saw stars. I screamed his name as I came, my walls clamping down on him. Juices gushed out around him, soaking his groin and the sheets beneath us, the release dragging on and on while he kept fucking me through it, prolonging every shudder and cry.
“Fuck, Wen,” he groaned, and I felt him swell even bigger inside me. His thrusts turned erratic, hips stuttering as he chased his own edge. “Yes. Perfect. So fucking perfect.”
He thrust twice more, deep and hard, grinding against me on the last one, and then he was coming too, buried as deep as he could possibly get. I felt him pulsing inside me, hot spurts of cum flooding my core, coating my walls and mixing with my wetness. His face was buried in my neck, teeth grazing my skin as he groaned low and primal, saying my name over and over like a prayer, his body jerking with each release. The warmth spread inside me, some leaking out around his base as he stayed lodged deep.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, hearts pounding against each other. He released my wrists and I immediately wrapped my arms around him, holding him close while we both came down. His weight pressed me into the mattress but I didn’t care.
Finally, he rolled us to the side, taking me with him so I ended up sprawled across his chest, his softening dick slipping out with a wet pop, a trail of our mixed cum dribbling down my thigh. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my bare back, dipping into the curve of my spine, while we caught our breath.
“We should do this more often,” I said once I could speak again without gasping, my voice hoarse from screaming, a lazy smile tugging at my lips as I nuzzled into his neck.
“I attempted to initiate last night and you said you were too tired.”
“Iwastired. Killian had three nightmares.” Our son had woken up crying about monsters under his bed three separate times. It had taken an hour to calm him down each time.
“Perhaps we should soundproof his chambers down the hall.”
I lifted my head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Or you could help with the nightmares instead of sleeping through them.”
“Hey. You were the one who suggested each one of us had a day shift instead of taking turns on the same night.” He actually looked offended, his brow furrowing. I cursed my past self who suggested that. It was true. I was the one who had insisted only one of us got up each day when Killian needed us. I did it last night, Mal would get up tonight. Kill needed him, and so on. “I would’ve helped - if you’d woken me up. I sleep like the dead. I’m sorry, little mate.”
“It’s okay…”
“It is not.” He shifted beneath me, getting comfortable. “Though Iama king. Kings require substantial rest to make important decisions and rule kingdoms effectively.”
I laughed and poked him in the ribs, right where I knew he was ticklish. “You’re also a father. Fathers require caffeine and prayer.”
He caught my hand before I could poke him again, bringing it to his lips and kissing my knuckles. “I wish we could stay here all day. Just us. No duties, no responsibilities. Just this.”
