Page 70 of When Hearts Surrender

He presses his thick cock against my backside and I feel him thrusting slowly through my sodden dress, gyrating against my ass cheeks.

Wetness seeps through my panties. I’m on fire for him.

“You’re going to let me stuff you with my cock and fill you with cum, aren’t you?”

“M-Maxwell, yes.” I whimper. The image of him pulsing inside me, filling me up, has me thrashing against him. I rub against his hardness, needing him to touch me, manhandle me, to ease the torture building inside me.

He growls, his hand tugging up my dress before he rips off my underwear and tosses it to the floor.

I gasp from the burn between my legs, which only heightens the climbing pleasure.I need more.

“I’m going to fuck you and breed you. But make no mistake, this is not love.” His voice is heated and rough, like he’s desperate for me.

Without another word, he thrusts inside me.

I cry out at the sudden intrusion, his thick cock invading my body in a delicious burn. He groans as he slides one hand between my legs and rubs circles on my clit. Pleasure lights up my pussy and I shake against him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunts as he hammers inside me, his body pressing me harder against the shower door.

His dick swells and becomes impossibly bigger, his fingers working expertly on my clit as sparks gather in a deep place inside me.

I lean back, running my hands over any part of him I can reach, trying to touch him, to have more connection than just his naked body pressed against my clothed one, his cock spearing me in half.

“Hands on the door. Don’t touch me.”

I follow his instructions, my body bowing to his dominance. My gut clenches at his rejection, but the ache is soon swallowed by a tsunami of pleasure building between my legs.

“You came looking for this, didn’t you?” he grunts. “Me to fuck you, get your belly full with my baby, mark you from the inside?”

My mind blanks at his possessive and dirty words.

“My wife is a slut for me,” he rasps. “Elegant on the outside, but you needed a thick cock stuffing you full of cum all along, didn’t you?”

“Oh fuck, Maxwell.” I whimper, a heat sparking from deep inside my womb and I’m almost blind from pleasure, from all his degrading words which somehow sound like poetry to my ears.

His thrusts quicken, the sounds of skin slapping against skin mixing with the pattering of the water crashing against our bodies.

The sparks in my pussy coalesce into an inferno and my legs tremble and I part my lips in a cry.

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes!” he roars, his cock thickening before throbbing, releasing warm spurts of cum inside me.

He pinches my clit and the sharp pain along with the hot cum trigger my orgasm. I tumble into nirvana, my legs quaking, body trembling, and he prolongs the high by gyrating his hips in gentle thrusts, his cock still deep and pulsing inside me.

Our panting breaths are loud in the shower as the pleasure gradually ebbs and we slowly come down from our high.

Without another word, he withdraws from me and stalks out of the shower.

I hear his ragged breaths as he wraps a towel around his waist, his fingers fumbling, a few curse words erupting from his mouth.

He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t look at me. His back muscles are taut with tension.

“I’ll see you in the dining room for dinner,” he rasps.

Then he leaves the bathroom.

The world slowly spins around me as I stand under the hot spray, still wearing my wet dress and reeling from the best sex I’ve ever had—the cathartic release, the intensity like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

Then I feel his cum streaming down my thighs and reality finally catches up to me.

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