Reclaiming His Wife

There isn’t a prayer’s chance in hell that I’d ever forget the feel of him, or the way he makes me come. But I am all too happy to let him show me.

I cry out as his fat cock drives in to the hilt, pleasure exploding through me as I cling to him with everything I have, knowing I’m going to come so fucking soon. I rock into him, riding his cock as he plunges in and out of my tight pussy, nailing me to damn dock behind us as the water splashes over my breasts, teasing my skin.

“Russell—”

“Come,” he grunts, his voice breaking as his breath catches. I can feel his thick cock swelling even bigger inside of me, his balls tightening as he starts to fuck me harder, and deeper, and faster, until the water splashes around us like a hurricane.

“Come for me, beautiful,” he hisses into my lips, kissing me fiercely. “Come for me, Jules.”

He plunges in, my clit grinds against the base of him, and suddenly, I explode. I cry out, and just as I feel myself shatter around him, I feel Russell groan as he follows me over. His mouth crushes to mine, his tongue curling around mine as he swallows my cries of pleasure and fills me with his. His thick cock throbs inside of me, and I feel him begin to come.

His hot, thick cum pours into me, pumping over and over, throbbing and pulsing as I come over and over again. I cling to him for dear life, kissing him with everything I have as we both detonate in orgasm, coming together like a bomb.

I pull my head away and gasp into the night sky, relishing the feel of the afterglow. Every inch of my skin tingles, every part of my body aches so deliciously.

For more. And Russell knows it.

So does his cock, because I don’t feel him get any less hard at all after we both come down, catching our breaths. His hands hold me tight, pulling me into him as he turns and wades for the shore. His muscles clench, and water streams over our bare skin as he carries me out of the lake onto the shore, and heads right for the cabin.

“I didn’t tire you out yet, huh?” I purr, my voice husky as I pepper his neck with kisses. His cock throbs inside of me as he groans, shaking his head.

“Beautiful, I hope you’re caught up on sleep,” he murmurs into my lips. “’Cause I am so far from done making you mine.”

9

Russell

Five years ago:

Darkness.

My eyes try and adjust to it, but it’s hard with them being half-shut with the swelling from the beating I took a few hours before. I move to stretch my legs out, but instantly grunt, pain lancing through my shoulder, my left leg, and my ribs.

Those motherfuckers did a goddamn number on me. ‘Course, there were ten of them, and I was tied to a goddamn chair. Cowards. Hell, I’d have taken the ten on one and felt okay about those odds if I wasn’t completely locked down.

What a bunch of pussies. And really, I don’t know what else to call a bunch of shitheads who train kids to strap bombs to themselves and run at Humvees. Fuck that and fuck them.

I wince at the pain in my side when I try and breathe. Yeah, that’s a cracked rib. Or five. The swelling to my face isn’t anything permanent. I don’t think, at least. My nose is slightly broken, but not much to do about that. The ribs will heal. The cuts from the hits from that one fucker’s belt will close.

…But I’ll still be here. In hell.

It’s been two days since Darren murdered my brothers and left me here to die—here in a pit in the desert. That’s literally where I am, actually. A pit. The compound is an old walled oasis in the foothills of a mountain range—probably something left over from when the Russians were in Afghanistan. And to one side, right there in the ground in the courtyard, is my pit. About twelve feet deep, stone walls slightly slopped the wrong way for climbing, and big metal bars over the top. There’s a door in the side down here, but it’s pure steel bars. And locked, obviously.

This shit doesn’t look good.

I sink against the ground, ignoring the pain flaming through me and close my eyes. And all I think of is her.

Juliana.

Fuck, that’s the worst part of all this. I know how this is going to go. With our old base a smoking crater, they’re going to assume the worst. And when fucking Darren backs it up with whatever horse-shit story he’s concocted about miraculously surviving the attack, that’ll be it.

I’ll be dead. Officially. And that’s the part that hurts the most, knowing what that’s going to do to my love.