“I would burn everyonefor you,” I gasped back, my breath hitching as he angled to grind against my g-spot, the pressure unbearable.
“I know.” He drove into me with more force, hips rolling to hit that spot over and over. “That’s why you’re mine. Say it - louder. Let the walls hear.”
“I’m yours.”
“Again.”
“I’m yours, Mal. Only yours. Always - shit, I’m about to come!”
He groaned, his rhythm faltering for a split second, a shudder running through him, before he regained control, pounding into me like a man possessed. His thumb pressed harder against my clit, rubbing furious patterns while he drove in deep, the head of his cock battering my depths, the friction building to a fever pitch.
“Then fucking come for me,” he commanded, his teeth sinking into my earlobe with a sharp tug. “Squeeze every single fucking drop out of me like the good girl you are.”
I obeyed. Pleasure crashed through me in waves so intense I saw white, my whole body convulsing around him, pussy clamping down in vise-like spasms that rippled along his length. I bit down on his shoulder to muffle my scream, teeth sinking through fabric into muscle, tasting the salt of his sweat as my release gushed out, soaking his groin and dripping down the wall behind me. My thighs quaked, heels digging into his ass, pulling him impossibly deeper as the orgasm tore through me, leaving me boneless.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his thrusts turning erratic, and then he was coming too, burying himself to the root and holding there as he spilled inside me. I could feel the hot rush of his cum jetting against my walls, thick spurts flooding my pussy, the warmth spreading sticky and full. His cock twitched and pulsed with each release, hips grinding in short jerks to push it deeper, until he was drained, body sagging against mine with a final exhale.
We were panting and trembling against the wall, our combined release starting to leak around where we were still joined. Another mess to clean. I didn’t regret it in the slightest.
Suddenly, I started laughing.
“What?” he asked, but he was smiling.
“We really need to stop having sex in semi-public places.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Never stopping. This is who we are now. People who have sex in corridors and meeting rooms and probably the throne room eventually.”
I cracked up so hard I snorted, which made me laugh even harder.
“I love that sound,” he said, still grinning at me.
“I snorted!”
“I know. It was perfect.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
He set me down carefully, and we both straightened our clothes. I was sure I looked thoroughly ravaged, my hair a mess, my dress wrinkled, my lips swollen.
I didn’t care.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We walked back through the castle together, fingers intertwined, both grinning like idiots who’d just had sex against a wall in a corridor.
Which, to be fair, we were.
11
— • —
Wen
I woke up to the smell of coffee and my husband’s smug face.
