Page 137 of Bad Little Bride

My feet plant firmly on the floor, hands digging into her hips, and I pound into her, her body bouncing, our skin slapping.

“Holy shit,” she rasps, clawing at my shirt until she’s yanking the buttons free, fingers rubbing all over me.

She grips my neck, shoving it to the side, and then her hot tongue is gliding over my tattoo, licking and kissing and sucking. She moves to the opposite side, taking my ear between her teeth.

She bites, and I pull all the way out of her pussy, slamming back inside.

She screams into the space, the shrill, salacious sound echoing and beating at my eardrums, and I want it again and again. I fuck her hard, rough, and she begs for more.

“Keep fucking going, husband.”

“Call me that again and I’m going to come.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Baby, I’m a man.” My chest rumbles and I squeeze her ass, pushing in and grinding her down on me. “I can come inside you right now and keep going for as long as you need me to, and then I’ll come again.”

She clenches around me, and I groan, digging my hands under her cheeks and lifting her from the desk, just enough for my knuckles to press to the wood.

I use my hold on her for support, fucking us into each other at a steady, speedy rhythm.

My head falls back, neck stretching, and she licks along my chest, heaving herself closer, pushing her pussy into me as much as she can.

“There you go, baby.”

“So close,” she gasps, burying her face in my neck, holding on to me for dear fucking life.

Like I want her to do for the rest of hers.

For-fucking-ever.

I groan into her hair, sinking my teeth into her neck.

She starts to shake, the cuffs around her ankles jingling, arms tightening, and then she shatters.

“Fuck, Enzo!” She comes hard, pulsing over my cock, and I follow right behind.

I jerk into her, liquid heat making the perfect fucking mess between us.

I pull out all the way, just to see the rope of my pearly seed spilling from her, then swipe along her slit, gathering what I can on the head of my dick and pushing it back inside.

“Why is that so hot?” she murmurs.

I look up at her, and her eyes are hooded, delirious. Using my pinkie, I push the pieces of hair stuck to her sweaty forehead back, and a small, almost shy, smile pulls at her lips.

“You look good and well fucked, my wife.” My voice is lower than intended.

“You’re really good at what you do,” she whispers teasingly, and a soft chuckle leaves me.

She leans her head on her elbow, one arm draped over my shoulder, mine slung around her back the only thing holding her up.

“Should we head for bed?”

“Bath first?”

I smile down at her, kissing her lips softly. “Anything for you.”

Reaching over, I unclick the cuffs from the metal bar on the ends of the desk, leaving them hanging around her ankles as I lift her bridal style into my arms.

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