“Mywife.”
His tongue plunges inside me again, tasting, claiming.
“Mother ofmychildren.”
I’m already on the brink, ready to fall over into oblivion at the feel of him, the possessive and passionate words he’s spewing with such fervor, speaking them against the part of me that’s been his since we first met. The anatomy that he knows better than anyone ever did, what we came together to bring new life into this world with.
The bed shakes with his movement, and I no longer feel him against me. His hands still roughly working my ass cheeks, he leans forward, hovering over my back until I make eye contact with him.
“No one else willeverlove you the way I do, Di.” A hand slips down between my legs, fingers pressing inside of my slick opening. “No one’s ever going to fuck you like I do, either.” He moves those fingers inside me until something between a scream and a moan breaks free. “You ever doubt that again, you come see me so I can remind you why it’s you and me, until the end.”
He pulls out of me, then comes forward to place my hands on the headboard using his own. I feel how hard he is already as he presses against me from behind.
“Hold on tight, Di. I’m not going to be gentle with you tonight.”
His hands leave mine on top of the headboard and return to my ass, kneading again, and a long groan escapes me. He chuckles darkly, then asks, “And when I’m through with you, you’ll never keep anything that’s hurting you like that from me ever again, will you, baby?”
Some sort of noise comes out of me, and he must take it as affirmation that I’ll be forthright with him from now on as he continues. All my attention is focused on the spot where our hips are all but joined, waiting for him to make another move.
“If you didn’t have these gorgeous curves, what would I hold onto when I did this?” His playful tone belies his intentions.
Those hands abruptly leave my ass and grip my hips, just as roughly, and he slams into me in one fluid motion with zero warning. Thank God the white noise is on, because an involuntary scream left my mouth just now.
He starts up a brutal, punishing pace, and I can’t help but whimper and moan with each pump of his hips. He’s hittingthatspot, the one so deep inside it brings waves of pleasure that make my knees give out, and thank God he has me holding onto the headboard, or I’d have collapsed already.
“You’re not allowed to come yet, Di, so don’t get any ideas,” he tells me thickly, in between grunts and pants.
I’m not sure how that’s supposed tokeepme from coming because I’m pretty sure I’m already on the verge from the combination of this pace he’s set, that spot he’s hitting, and those dirty words. I’ve never let another man own my pleasure like this. I’m pretty sure if any of the guys I’d been with before Chance tried, I would’ve kicked them in the dick and walked out, leaving them with black and blue balls. But fuck if it doesn’t push me over the edge when Chance takes control like this.
He takes one hand off my hip and slides it over my spine, pushing my body farther down so he can drive even deeper, before sliding it up to fist my hair.
“I mean it. I don’t want you to come yet, Di. Answer me.”
“Trying,” I manage to get out between the absolute nonsense leaving my mouth.
I can barely remember to keep breathing at this point, so trying to keep this tsunami of an orgasm that’s close to breaking at bay is really asking a lot of me right now.
“Good girl. You believe me now? You know how much I love you? This gorgeous body?” The hand still on my hip tightens, squeezing the skin there even harder, while the one against my scalp pulls my head back by his fistful of hair.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Good girl. You gonna stay mad at me again? Keep this pussy from me again?”
I clench around him, getting dangerously close to the precipice already.
“No,” I cry out, and I really mean it. I never want something to come between us again. I’d rather have a painful conversation or five than wallow in that kind of heartbreak again, especially when the chances are it’s unfounded to begin with.
He grunts in acknowledgement and slams into me again. “Hold out for me, baby, you can do it,” he praises me, and I can feel my walls clenching around his thick shaft again with the words. I can’t remember the last time he felt this hard inside me, or hitthisdeep, and there’s no way I can last much longer.
He can feel me tightening around him and says, “You’re not going to come, are you? Am I going to have to stop?” He slows his pace as he waits for me to answer, and I cry out an objection.
“Don’t come yet and I won’t have to stop,” he says teasingly, and I can tell he’s fucking grinning without even seeing his face. I make an angry sound in response, and he chuckles.
He moves the hand from my hair and uses it to grip my shoulder instead. He uses it as leverage and starts pulling me back against him, hard, with each thrust.
There’s no fucking way I can hold out when he’s making me see stars from this pressure. It’s the kind of pleasure that only comes from someone whoknowswhat they’re doing with your body. That deep, internal pleasure that makes you feel like you can’t take another second of it or you’ll explode, but if they stop you might actually, physically die. Breathing is secondary to this feeling. Nothing else makes me feel as alive.
My eyes sting and burn with tears that spring up from the intensity of what he’s doing to me, inside of me.
