The Husband Game

The whole while, he keeps his gaze fixed on mine, making sure I’m okay, slowing down anytime I gasp, before he starts to push again. I understand why when he finally stops, fully inside me, and leans down along my body to kiss my lips softly.

Fuck. I have never felt so full in my entire life. He stuffs me completely, and my pussy throbs a little, a pleasant, pleasure-inducing ache that makes me want more, more, more.

“Is this what you wanted, naughty girl?” he whispers, and for emphasis, pulls his hips back just a little, withdrawing from me by an inch or so before he thrusts fully back inside me.

“Yes,” I reply, but the word comes out a long, low moan that makes him chuckle softly in the back of his throat, clearly enjoying watching the effect he has on me.

“Good.” He pulls back a little farther now, and drives back into me again, making my hips buck under him. “Because I plan to fuck you so hard you forget what day it is, Lila.”

I drag my nails down his bare back in response, over the hard expanse of his muscles. “I told you, Charlie. I like it rough.”

His grin only widens at that. “Don’t blame me when you can’t walk tomorrow,” he murmurs.

When. Not if. His confidence is infectious, turning me on, more than I ever imagined this kind of alpha talk could. Normally I’m into sweet guys, but this… Charlie is something different. Someone different.

Before I can get too lost in my own head, he drags me right back to the present, reaching down to angle my hips beneath him, and then drawing out of me in one long, slow motion. I gasp in protest at losing the sensation of him inside me. But he thrusts right back in, his cock filling me once more, and I arch my hips up to slam against his, moving with him, trying to give as good as he gives me, hard and rough.

Soon he has me pinned beneath him, and he’s driving into me, hard and fast. With each thrust, his cock fills my pussy so fully it makes me scream. With each withdrawal, I feel empty again until he slams back inside me.

He’s right. I do lose track of the day, the time. Of anything except this sensation, him driving into me, his hands wandering over my body, tracing and hugging my curves, his body going hot and slick with sweat against mine. Our combined scents mingle in the air, until the whole room smells like sex, which only turns me on more.

Then he angles his hips, to make his cock drag against each of my inner walls in turn, and I lose my mind entirely.

I come with a scream the first time he hits my G-spot dead on, with the kind of aim I’ve only experienced from guys’ fingers before. And he just keeps going, driving into me, egging me on. “Come again for me. That’s it, feel my fat fucking cock inside you? Tell me how good it feels,” he demands, but I can barely make my voice work, let alone form words.

I just cry out with pleasure as the second orgasm hits, and hope that he can translate that for himself, into how much I’m enjoying myself.

Finally, after what feels like hours—and may well have been, for all I know—he pulls me to him harder than usual, grips my hips so tightly there will probably be bruises tomorrow, but I don’t care; he’s all I want right now. He comes with a guttural growl, and leans down across me. I wrap my legs tight around his waist, hold him against me, as he finishes, and as both our bodies sink into the bed with exhaustion.

When he pulls out of me, I gasp a little at the sensation of my own juices dribbling down my thighs. It makes me shiver, to know how wet he made me, how turned on.

But I barely have time to recover before he leans across and gently tips his fingertip under my chin, tilting my face toward his.

“After that performance, I think we both deserve a shower, don’t you?” he murmurs, and the heat behind his eyes makes me realize, he has no intentions of getting clean anytime soon…

4

I wake to the sound of an unfamiliar alarm blaring somewhere in the recesses of my skull. I groan and fling my arm across my eyes to shield them from the assault that is the morning sun. Where am I?

It takes a second for the night before to flood back in. And when it does, my face floods with heat, too. Because fuck. Some of the things we did last night… Some of the things this man said to me…

I roll over in bed to find Charlie already awake, switching his alarm off before he turns to face me with an apologetic grin. “Forgot to shut that off earlier, sorry.”