He chuckles. “I’ve never heard you apologize quicker in my life.”
“Shut up and let me come.”
“With pleasure,” he says with a mischievous look. “But taste how intoxicating you are first.”
He puts his finger into my mouth, and I hesitate, but then suck it, tasting the sweet and tangy mix of myself. Withdrawing his finger, he grabs my thong, ripping it from my body. Discarding the fabric onto the floor.
Grabbing his pants, he pulls out a condom and rolls it on. It sends a thrill up my spine, loving how desperate he is to be inside me.
He grips my thighs and lifts me, my back against the cold wood, the tip of him at my hot entrance.
“You ready?” he asks.
“Yes, husband, please fuck me,”
I want to be fucked raw and passionate right now. Unhinged even better.
“Fuck, I love that,” he rasps as he thrusts in one motion, sliding through me.
I cry out at the fullness, loving the way we fit perfectly, like a puzzle.
Holding his arms, I whimper as he rocks his hips, thrusting harder every time. His thick erection is growing.
“I can’t get enough of you. Luckily, you're already my wife, otherwise I’d ask you to marry me.”
“My husband,” I moan.
“My wife,” he says with the most delicious guttural groan. His arms bulge with each thrust. His pumps get faster. I know he must be close. I want to come together, so I relax and let my body feel the sensation. On the next few thrusts, my body clenches and I cry out his name, and he goes still as he jerks.
His head falls to the crook of my neck. The sounds of him pushed me over the edge and they still turn me on, even after an orgasm. Neither of us move, not wanting to end this.
I soak in his hot skin and heavy wood aftershave, letting it wrap around me like a warm blanket.
After a minute, Oliver peels his head away and looks down at me lovingly.
“Fuck, that was incredible.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, nodding.
He slowly helps my legs down, and I take a second. Then I look over to get dressed, but my thong is ruined. “I’ll have to go home wearing no thong.”
“I don’t see a problem with that.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you don’t.”
“I’ll buy you new ones.”
“It doesn't help me now.”
He laughs. “I’ll order them over the phone and get my driver to pick up the package.”
I’d argue, but I need to clean up the mess from the furniture assembling, and by the time I do that, he’ll have dropped them off.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll rip them off again when we get home.”
“Insatiable.”