My body was pulled taut as I received a series of shallow thrusts that had me whimpering. He kept grinding deep and his tip brushed a special spot inside. It caused a burst of constellations to explode behind my closed lids.
It was all too much yet not enough.
“For a woman who hates her husband, you’re taking my cock so fucking good,” he rasped. “Aren’t you,chérie?”
The barb hit hard. We’d both shown too much vulnerability and none of us were ready to face the meaning of it. So he brought us back to safer grounds.
There was a shift in the air and the game of chess morphed.
Zeno thought he’d conquered me—that he’d capture the queen—simply because I let my guard down for a few short moments. His taunt and roguish grin stained red frommonrouge à lèvresdripped with arrogance.
I gritted my teeth, anger unfurling in the pit of my chest and waltzing with my lust. “I can hate you and still want you, Zeno. You talked a big game, so back it up. I’m gettingboredhere.”
His eyes flashed menacingly. “What did you fucking say?”
He was still holding back, and it just wasn’t doing it for me. I wanted all of his promised threats. “Fuck me hard…or I’ll find someone else to do it,Master.”
Zeno bared his teeth and let go of my wrists, only to slap my breasts with two hands.
I moaned, feeling the hotness of his print blooming over my fragile skin.
“You want to run your mouth like a brat? I’ll fuck you like a brat.” He gripped my waist, canted my hips, and entered me so viciously, I screamed. My surroundings blurred into an amalgamation of pain and pleasure. “I’ll show you what happens when you taunt me. Hang tight while I give you a lesson, you pretty little whore.”
Zeno started thrusting fast and hard, igniting the fire in my veins.
He took me like an animal, his pace growing with every second until the bed shook under the impact of our rough lovemaking.
I fisted the sheets and moaned loudly.
I was wrong.
This wasn’t making love.
This waswar.
And I loved it.
Zeno squeezed the diamond necklace around my neck. His face was a depiction of harsh masculinity and something utterly possessive, as he cut my air supply and fucked me into the silk sheets. I wheezed, my fingers scoring his thick, meaty pecs and dragging down to his boxed abs.
“You act like you hate me, but this wet pussy squeezing my cock says otherwise,” he growled with a punishing drive. “You love my brand of torture, little angel.”Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. “Look at you fucking living for it.”
I was twisted because I could feel myself getting wetter. I loved the slapping sounds of our flesh and the way his hips punched his cock into my virgin pussy with a brutality no woman should want for her first time…but God, I did.
Having little to no oxygen sharpened every noise in our confessional box. The rocking bed, the wind rustling the drapes, and my husband’s satisfied grunts rang in the air like the most beloved melody.
Zeno released his chokehold and I pleaded for breath. It entered raw and left me in the form of a prayer to the Lord above. His cross swung close to me with every thrust and I closed my mouth around it, biting the bullet.
Accepting the inevitable pain of tomorrow, for the sake of tonight’s pleasure.
Zeno played with my clit and I threw my head back with sobbing moans, tingles running up and down my spine.
“Who’s fucking you?” He never broke his pace, screwing the living hell out of me.
“My master,” I whimpered, thrashing when he licked and sucked my nipples.
“Who.”Thrust. “Do.”Thrust. “You.”Thrust. “Belong.”Thrust. “To?”
“Master Zeno!”