Bred by the Bully (Breeding Season 8)

“This is some bathroom,” she said, her low heels clicking on the tiles. “Nicer than any of my apartments.”

“Good enough for me to fuck you in?”

He carefully shrugged off his jacket, hooking it on one of the designer chairs. Then he undid his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves over his forearms. “Sit on the counter and spread those legs.”

She didn’t argue, wiggling onto the immaculate counter, careful not to knock over the vase with fresh roses. Mira kicked off her shoes and braced her feet on the counter.

He unbuckled as she stalked toward him. His mouth salivated, his cock ramrod hard against his zipper. She was in for a surprise tonight.

Her tits were already spilling out of her dress. He peeled one of the cups down and engorged himself on her nipple, taking most of her areola as well. He was hungry for her.

Drake spread her thighs wide without releasing his latch on her tit. He peeled her panties to one side and began to fuck her hard with two fingers. She was already soaked, her cream coating his fingers within seconds.

“Nice and wet.” Drake got down on one knee and spread her folds, impaling her with his tongue before suckling on her clit. She gasped, her body ripe and alive. He ate her pussy like a beast, unable to get enough of her. They’d waited too long. She’d be sore tomorrow.

She tried to keep her noises down, biting down on her fist as she came against his face, her pussy quivering as waves of contractions rocked her body. The moment she settled, he stood up and pulled down his zipper.

“Your shoulder,” she whimpered.

“Fuck my shoulder.” He poised between her legs and plunged his thick cock into her hot little cunt. Drake groaned aloud, it felt so damn good. He loved being inside her, the pleasure, the closeness.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, careful not to put pressure on his healing shoulder. Right now, it was the last thing on his mind. He fucked his wife, hard and fast, creating an intense momentum. He pistoned his hips, slamming balls deep again and again.

He wouldn’t last long. “I’ll never get enough of you, Mira.”

“Oh, God, I’m going to come again,” she cried out, her head tossed back.

She was a siren, able to take a hard fucking and willing to humor him with all his sexual fantasies.

Within minutes, he was pumping his seed inside her, her pussy pulsing around his cock. The instant relief nearly made him dizzy with satisfaction. He slowed his pace, finally pulling out so he could help her clean up, the sink and towels right beside them.

“You’re lucky no one needed to use the washroom,” she said.

“Not my problem. They’d have to wait.”

“Are we always going to be like this?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Even with kids?”

“Why not? Just because we have kids doesn’t mean our love life needs to change. I’ll be fucking you until I can’t get it up.”

“You’re impossible, Mr. Eastwood.”

“And you love every minute of it, don’t you, Mrs. Eastwood?”

She slipped off the counter and adjusted her dress and hair. “I do like your naughty side. Sometimes.”

He raised an eyebrow.

They returned to their seats. The wine he’d ordered was on ice in the center of the table. “You can toast for both of us,” she said.

“Nonsense.”

Drake poured their wine glasses full of deep-red non-alcoholic wine.

“I can’t—”

“It’s grape juice. You don’t think I’d risk you or the baby, do you?” He raised his glass and she joined him. “To us. Our future. And our growing family.”

“To new and better memories,” she added.

They clinked their glasses and sipped on their wine.

“Thank you for having faith in me after everything I’ve put you through.”

“Bullies aren’t born, they’re created. But you changed, and that’s all that matters.”

“I’ll make you proud.”

“You already have, Drake. I love you.”

“And I love you. Always have, always will.” He leaned over their small table and met her in the middle for a kiss. A soft, gentle kiss that had nothing to do with desire but everything to do with his irrevocable love for his wife.

The End