Slowly, he pushes himself back inside, filling me once more.
“Spread your legs for me. As wide as you can. It’ll make this easier.”
I obey without hesitation, my thighs parting as far as they’ll go. He moves between them, his hips pressing into mine, the coarse hair of his thighs brushing against my sensitive skin. His weight presses me to the soft mattress. The blindfold heightens everything—every touch, every sound, every movement.
His fingers keep stroking my clit in slow, perfect circles, sending waves of pleasure through me. His lips are close to my neck, his warm breath teasing my skin.
“I’m going to start moving,” he whispers. “Just hold on for me. I promise I’ll make you come, Princess.”
Without waiting for an answer, he pulls back and thrusts forward, his movements deliberate and steady. As he withdraws, it feels like my walls cling to him, the stretch sending a dull ache through me. But when he pushes back in, pleasure washes over me, erasing everything else.
The rhythm of his thrusts is slow at first. Each movement drives me deeper into the mattress. His hand on my clit doesn’t falter, his touch perfectly synchronized with his hips.
Gradually, his thrusts go deeper, though his pace remains steady and controlled. My body rocks beneath him, the mattress creaking faintly with each movement. His free hand cups my breast, squeezing it as his breath turns heavier, his voice rough with need.
“This pussy is mine,” he growls. “Always has been. Thank fuck no one else got to touch you before me.”
I hear the deep, guttural moans escaping his throat, each one laced with pleasure. His hand slides behind one of my knees, lifting and bending it slightly. The new angle sends him deeper inside me, and pain shoots through my body.
“Slower…please,” I whimper.
He exhales deeply, and gently lowers my leg back down. His fingers press harder against my clit, reigniting the pleasure that had begun to wane.
“Fuck, Princess. You’re incredible. Perfect.”
The words rumble out of him with a deep growl, shaking my already trembling body. My fingers dig into the sheets and I moan in pain and pleasure.
He buries his face in the curve of my neck, his weight pressing heavier against me, grounding me beneath him. With every thrust, the base of his cock brushes against my clit, sending shockwaves of sensation that threaten to break me completely.
A cry tears from my lips, loud and unrestrained.“Oh God…oh God…oh!”
I want to call his name, to scream it, but it feels foreign on my tongue. Instead, I lose myself in the rhythm of his movements. He picks up speed, not to hurt but to draw out every ounce of pleasure.
The tension coils tighter and tighter until it finally snaps. Pleasure crashes through me in a violent wave, shaking me to my core. I scream, my body writhing uncontrollably beneath him. In that moment, I don’t care who might hear me, don’t care if the whole world knows. I’m consumed by the wild, unrelenting pleasure, melting into the heat of it.
Even as I shake and cry out, he doesn’t stop, riding out every last wave of my orgasm. His weight keeps me pinned to the mattress, his hot breath falling against my ear and neck.
A few more thrusts, and I feel it—his cock swelling inside me, pulsing as a deep groan escapes his throat. He pulls out quickly, and warmth spills across my skin.
He collapses on top of me, heavy and solid, pressing the air from my lungs. I’m too drained to protest. His teeth graze my earlobe in a soft, playful bite as he pants against my skin. “Even better than I imagined…tight, hot, and fucking mine.”
I’m too exhausted to answer, too spent to decide if I should feel flattered or sick at the thought that he’s been imagining this while he was gone. Instead, I let the heavy haze of exhaustion pull me under, surrendering to the deep, dreamless sleep that overtakes me.
***
The smell of cigarette smoke pulls me awake, but I keep my eyes closed. He’s beside me. My heart pounds as the memory of what we did crashes over me. A heavy wave of guilt settles deep in my chest.
I betrayed my husband.
A husband who’s never hurt me outright. I slept with another man—not just any man, but one of his sworn enemies. I’m a disgrace. A worthless, faithless woman.
“Don’t overthink it, Lucia. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I hear him and finally open my eyes. The room is still bathed in the faint red glow from the bedside lamp. Tony lies next to me, staring up at the ceiling as he takes a drag from his cigarette.
The sheets don’t cover him, leaving him completely naked, but I don’t dare let my gaze wander to his body. Instead, I clutch the blanket tighter, pulling it up to my chest. My voice, barely audible, escapes in a hoarse whisper, “What we did was wrong. I betrayed my husband.”
He props himself up slightly and stubs out his cigarette in the same candleholder beside the bed. When he turns back to me, his eyes are like blocks of ice.
