He leaned down and buried his face between her legs. He licked a long, broad stroke right up her entire slick slit, tasting her heat.
Katherine screamed his name, her hands flying up to fist violently in the white hotel pillows.
David knew exactly how she liked it. He locked his mouth over her clit, sucking relentlessly, pulling and swirling his tongue. At the exact same time, he slid three thick fingers deep inside her tight, soaking pussy. He fucked her, using a hard, upward curling motion that hit her exactly on her most sensitive spot.
He didn’t let up. He kept her pinned under his mouth and his relentless fingers until her hips began to stutter and buck wildly against his face. Katherine let out a high, piercing, continuous cry, her inner muscles violently clenching and trembling around his fingers as she came completely undone.
Without wasting another second, David stood up beside the bed. He stripped off his clothes, his cock rock-hard, dark, and leaking pre-cum. He crawled back onto the bed, settling his heavy, sweating frame over her flushed, trembling body.
He lined himself up at her wet entrance, gripped her hips, and thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth, aggressive, bone-deep motion.
“Fuck,” David groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as his head dropped back.
He felt her hot, impossibly tight pussy wrapping around his cock, squeezing him like a vise. It was a suffocating, mind-altering heat. He started slowly, establishing a deep, agonizingly good rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into her base.
He listened to the delicious, breathy moans falling constantly from her lips, drinking in the sound of her pleasure. He leaned down, kissing her breasts, biting her jaw, capturing her open mouth in a filthy, tongue-deep kiss. He opened his eyes, staring down at her face, watching the pure, unfiltered ecstasy taking over her features. The absolute power he had over her sent a fresh surge of dominance through his entire body.
“Please,” Katherine begged, her fingernails digging into his broad shoulders, leaving half-moon indentations in his skin. “Harder, David. Give me more.”
A dark, incredibly pleased smile crossed his face. He reached down and grabbed one of her long, tanned legs, lifting it completely off the bed and hooking her knee securely over his shoulder. He marveled at how incredibly flexible and tight she was—a stark, vibrant, eager contrast to the cold, rigid distance Rosália had been giving him for months.
He drove into her with brutal, punishing strength. The wet, heavy sound of their bodies violently slapping together echoed loudly in the quiet hotel room. He fucked her faster andfaster, his chest heaving, a sheen of sweat covering his muscular back as the inevitable climax rushed up to meet him.
With a harsh, guttural shout, David pulled his cock completely out of her soaking wet pussy at the very last possible second.
He hovered over her, his hips jerking uncontrollably as thick, hot ropes of his cum shot across her flat stomach and her breasts. He let out a long, shuddering breath, his head dropping forward as the euphoria crashed over him.
Before she could move, he reached out. Using his fingers, he aggressively smeared the hot, sticky fluid across her golden skin, thoroughly marking her as his possession.
Katherine lay back against the pillows, her chest heaving, a languid, incredibly satisfied smile on her face. She reached down, her fingers lightly tracing the length of his rapidly softening, wet cock.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Katherine murmured, her eyes dark with complete adoration. “I love your cock, David.”
David smirked, a vicious, triumphant pride swelling in his chest. He pushed himself up, resting his weight on his forearms. “That old man can’t fuck you the way you deserve, Kat. He doesn’t know what to do with a body like this.” He paused, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as a possessive, territorial urge flared. “Are you still letting him fuck you?”
“God, no,” Katherine said, not missing a single beat. She stroked his chest, her eyes wide and innocent. “I haven’t let him touch me. Do you still sleep with Rosália?”
David scoffed, entirely dismissing the woman sleeping ten floors above them. “Obviously not. Why the hell would I waste my time with her when I have a hot, vibrant woman right here? With a body that’s firm, flexible, and completely tight whenever I want it?”
Katherine’s smile widened, blooming with sheer, validated vanity. She leaned up, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulled him down into a deep, hungry kiss.
Her hips shifted beneath him, grinding her slick center against his crotch. Almost instantly, David felt the familiar, heavy rush of blood as his cock began to harden against her thigh. He knew he was playing with fire. He knew he had been gone for nearly forty-five minutes and needed to get back to the penthouse before Rosália woke up in an empty bed.
But the temptation was too potent. The ego trip was too entirely intoxicating.
Without resisting the forbidden urge, David grabbed her hips, rolling her over until she was straddling his lap.
“Ride it,” he ordered darkly, his hands gripping her bare waist as he prepared to fuck her all over again.
The scalding hot water of the fourth-floor hotel shower had done absolutely nothing to wash away the adrenaline pumping fiercely through David’s veins.
He rode the private elevator back up to the penthouse level in a haze of arrogant, illicit euphoria. His skin still hummed from the punishing heat of the water and the desperate, sloppy friction of Katherine sinking to her wet knees on the shower floor. She had been ruthless, her mouth sliding hungrily over him, swallowing his groans as thick steam filled the small, glass-enclosed space. The forbidden rush of taking her right there—scrubbing the scent of their sex off their bodies only to immediately dirty themselves all over again—was an intoxicating high David had never experienced in his pristine, meticulously curated marriage.
When the silver doors slid open on the top floor, David stepped out feeling like an untouchable god. He ran a hand through his damp, dark hair, moving down the silent, heavily carpeted corridor with the practiced, predatory grace of a man who had just gotten away with murder.
He swiped his keycard. The heavy mahogany door of his suite clicked open, and he slipped inside, easing the door shut so the latch wouldn’t make a sound.
The penthouse was suffocatingly dark and perfectly quiet, save for the low, mechanical hum of the central air conditioning.
