“I’m not walking away from this. From you.”
The words lit through me, left me trembling but steady enough to answer. “Good. Because I’m not letting you.”
His hand slid to my throat, grip firm, not choking, just anchoring me there while his eyes burned into mine.
“That’s what the fuck I needed to hear,” he said, voice rough.
I nodded, wide open, every nerve raw, every defense gone.
“You finished?” he asked, tone sharp, daring me to lie.
I shook my head, breath catching. “No. Hell no. I want the dick. I need it.”
That was all he needed. He spun me, bent me over the table, palms flat against the table. My dress was up in seconds, his hands rough, greedy. No panties. I’d been ready for him. “You missed me, huh?” he muttered, dragging the head of his dick over wet lips.
“Yeah,” I breathed, arching back.
He pushed in slowly, every inch stretching me until I swore I was built for him. His hands locked on my hips, guiding me, filling me. My breath caught, my body already trembling as I opened for him.
“You so fuckin’ wet, Coco. What the fuck…” His voice broke roughly against my neck.
The rhythm built fast, his hips slamming into mine, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room. I cried out but didn’t flinch, didn’t run. I gave it back to him, harder, meeting every stroke.
“This mine now,” he growled, one hand dragging up my spine, anchoring me.
“Yes—fuck, yes, Lesley. It’s yours.”
“Say it louder.”
I shoved back against him, voice breaking. “It’s yours, Lesley. All yours.”
My voice cracked, thighs trembling, breath shattering with every push. He bit into my shoulder, holding me still, but the grip wasn’t just control—it was him keeping me close.
He moved slower, deeper, the roughness in him folding into care. Every thrust wasn’t just taking, it was giving. It was him saying without words that I was his woman, his wife, and he wasn’t going anywhere.
His fingers rubbed my clit as he stroked deeper. I felt myself crumbling again.
“Come on, Coco. Coat yo husband dick. I know you can do it.”
I screamed. Moaned. Came so hard I thought I might black out. My body pulsed around him, trying to pull him in. Hold him there.
Did I have a praise kink?
“Fuck,” he hissed, slamming into me at a rapid pace before spilling inside me.
We stood there, breathless. I trembled. He tensed. The silence between us was louder than anything we’d just done. He pulled out slowly, both of us hissing. I stayed bent over, trying to get my breath.
Dinner was a mess. Dishes everywhere. My dress still up around my waist. We’d wrecked more than the room.
“Coco,” he said, reaching for me.
I turned, hair wild, lips swollen, satisfaction still humming through me. Underneath all of it was fear and hope sitting side by side, and the quiet understanding that I wasn't the same woman I'd been an hour ago.
He caught my waist. “We just crossed into different waters. You’re my woman now more than ever. If I say it, I mean it. I’mma settle up.”
Neither of us moved for a minute. We just stayed there, breathing. His forehead dropped to my shoulder, and I felt his weight on my back.
I put my hand on the back of his neck and held him there.
