Page 45 of Dirty Dillon

The coil in my gut tightens, pleasure building with each thrust. She cries out, inner walls clamping down around my cock. I groan, thrusting deep as my own release crashes over me in waves.

We cling to each other as the aftershocks fade, our breaths and heartbeats slowing. A contented sigh escapes her, her body going lax.

I settle in beside her, pulling her into my arms. She nestles against me with a sleepy murmur, her fingers curling into my chest hair.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

Her eyes drift closed, a smile playing on her lips.

Within moments her breathing evens out, the stresses of her day fading away. I stroke her hair, listening to the soft sounds of her sleep.

My fierce, beautiful, bratty wife.

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