Page 71 of Winter's End

The woman I had always belonged to.

I slipped my hand between our pounding bodies—hers meeting mine desperately with every stroke, every thrust—and circled my thumb against her soaking clit. I increased the pressure with every pass. Covering her mouth with my own, I swallowed her gasps with my tongue.

She stiffened beneath me and I knew I’d met my mark as she shuddered her release and sagged into the mattress, her hands still holding on to my back as she gasped.

I could spend the entire night giving her orgasm after orgasm, but I didn’t want to. There would be time for that later—I needed my pent-up release more desperately than I needed to breathe. I sat up on my quads and brought her body up to sit flush against me. Then I drove my cock so deep into her channel, I didn’t know where she ended and I began.

My balls drew up without warning, and sharp pleasure rocketed up my spine as I finally loaded her pussy with every drop of cum I could give her.

I hadn’t had bareback sex with anyone in my life. I’d be burning every condom I owned to feel her cunt on my cock until the end of time.

I gently laid her on the bed. She rolled over, her smile sated and spent, as she looked up at me behind heavylashes.

I slid down to the foot of the bed and tenderly kissed each hip bone before latching my mouth over her filled pussy.

She let out a strangled cry as my tongue forced its way between her swollen walls, lapping up our combined releases. I held the sweet and salty mixture in my mouth, crawling back up her body to kiss her. I forced her lips open and pushed our cum between them, making her taste the unmistakable flavor of us.

“Taste what you do to me, Princess.”

She swallowed the mixture with a sexy hum. My cock stiffened to half-mast just at the sound.

Now I knew what she felt like, how her body responded to mine, I wouldn’t be able to let her go. The only fucking downside was I’d have to share her with four other fuckwits.

I never cared about that side of things. I didn’t need her to be mine and only mine, like some fucking caveman. But if I was going to be hers, she needed to take all of me—every asshole piece, and fit them into her puzzle—or whatever poetic bullshit someone like Chase would say.

I pressed light kisses to her jaw, her neck, and trailed them along her collarbone before tucking her into my side and pulling the blankets back over us.

She settled into my arms and the powerful scent of her shampoo filled my nostrils. It would now be the smell of the best fuck of my life.

Within a minute, her breathing evened out, and she fell asleep against me. As I felt myself doing the same, the last thought in my head was that Winter fucking Wallace was finally fucking mine.

And I’d tear apart any man who tried to take her away from me.

I woke to the sun streaming through the windows, giving me an instant fucking headache. I had blackout automatic blinds at my condo; this bullshit was for poor people.

I rolled over, expecting to feel my princess beside me, but the bed was cold.

After pulling on my t-shirt and boxers from the floor, I brushed my teeth in the ensuite. As much as I’d love the taste of her cum on my tongue as a permanent tattoo, I needed fresh breath to kiss her good morning.

Because I was definitely fucking kissing her this morning.

I didn’t bother putting in my contacts. I grabbed my glasses from the nightstand and padded into the open kitchen, now fully awake and ready for Hillary’s fancy-ass coffee.

The devil herself sat at the island in a fuzzy pink bathrobe, sipping her own espresso and reading the newspaper like an old fucking grandma.

She cocked a brow at me as she looked over her paper in question. “Did you have a pleasant evening,husband?”

I scoffed at the term. One more month and we’d be free of this farce of a life we’d been putting on, and I’d be able to show off Winter as the woman who belonged on my arm.

I ignored her and made my own espresso, working the gears of her expensive-as-hell machine and crafting the coffee just the way I liked it; strong and bitter.

I sat across from her and took a throat-burning swallow.

“The accommodations were fine, thanks,” I deadpanned, not interested whatsoever in talking about my sex life with mywife.

Our lives were fucking weird.

“Where’s Winter?” I asked, diverting the conversation to the real reason I had gotten out of bed.

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