I spiral down from the high and relax against the glass, now relieved by its cooltemperature.
I don’t dare to turn around and look when I hear small thuds on the padded carpet behind me, but I count them. One, his jacket. Two, his tie. Three, his shirt. Four, his pants andbelt.
Tristan’s front presses against my back, his hard cock probing at my entrance. “Arch your back so I can slide my cock in, Mrs.Broussard.”
I rest my upper body against the glass window and use all of my strength to tilt my ass up so Tristan can fit his fat cock inside me. When I’m in position, it slides through my slick folds into mypussy.
“Mmm.” He wraps his arm around my waist and holds me tightly. “Only someone I call wife can withstand the fuck session I’m about to giveyou.”
The first brutal thrust is delivered and nearly lifts me out of my heels. “Uhh!”
Tristan pounds his cock into me without mercy. Every thrust is solid because there’s no cushion from a bed or couch. “You can scream if you want to, Mrs. Broussard. Cry even. I loveboth.”
The room is filled with three sounds: Tristan’s brutal grunts, my ardent squeals, and the wet suction-friction sound of his cock rapidly jackhammering into me. My entire body is being jarred because he’s fucking me sohard.
He fucks me that way until my body quivers with exhaustion. A veil of sweat has formed over both of us and our skin is now sliding against one another without hardly any friction. I’m even having trouble holding my palms and forehead against the window; they keepsliding.
Tristan’s hands grip the backs of my thighs and he lifts me like a chair against his chest, carrying me to the bedroom. He tosses me onto the bed facedown and crawls over me, his cock slamming into me before I can get situated. “Take it, Mrs. Broussard. Take every inch with your ass up and your headdown.”
Every thrust feels like he’s touching something deep within me. I don’t know what, but it’s tender. Not unbearable, but I can’t stop the scream that expels from my lungs each time he hits it. And my screams only manage to jockey himon.
He pulls out of me. “Get on yourback.”
I muster all of my remaining strength to flip over. He kneels between my thighs and jerks on his cock, his face contorted. “I’m close, Mrs.Broussard.”
“Come on me, Mr.Broussard.”
He closes his eyes and jerksfaster.
“I’m your wife, Mr. Broussard. Mark me. Claim me. Show me that I’myours.”
I don’t even know where those words came from. It’s like they formed on their own and tumbled from mymouth.
Tristan lowers his body to hover over mine. He holds his weight above me with one arm, forcing every muscle in his arm to bulge. So fuckingsexy.
He squeezes his eyes closed for a second and groans. And then opens his eyes wide and watches stream after stream of cum shoot from the tip of his cock landing on my stomach, my chest, my neck, my chin, my face. “Tell me who you belongto.”
“I belong toyou.”
He releases his grip on his cock and places his flat palm on my chest. He slides it through the cum, smearing it all over me. Rubbing it into my skin. “Mine.”
I put my hand on top of his. “Yours.”
His arm is shaking violently, but he lowers his face to mine and places a soft kiss against my lips before rolling to his back andcollapsing.
His breath is a pant, as is mine. And as I work to catch my breath, I reflect on what justhappened.
Fuck, that wasintense.
Fuck, that wasweird.
We just spent the last twenty minutes pretending to be a married couple who fucks like savages. I don’t even know what that was all about. And I’m afraid toask.
Tristan lifts my hand and brings it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the top. A complete contradiction of what he just did to me. “Comehere.”
I roll toward him and assume the same cuddling position as last night. He glances down at me. “Everythingokay?”
“Yeah.”
