“For fucking driving me crazy,” he grunts, working himself in and out, faster and faster.

Still fighting my tight clench.

“For fucking being amazing,” he groans, and even with all the pleasure he’s slamming into me, I feel my heart fluttering behind my ribs.

“Because you’re mine. In this bed, in this house, in my world, you’re my fucking wife,” he says, and at this moment I totally believe him.

He leans forward, pushing more of his weight down on my chest.

“And my wife always deserves a good fucking,” he rumbles as he reaches down and pulls my legs up until my knees are nearly touching my head.

“Johnathan,” I gasp as the new position causes him to slam into me even deeper.

The spike of pleasure he drives into me is so good, so strong, my eyes start to roll into the back of my head.

“That’s it,” he grunts, and somehow manages to slip my knees over his shoulders without losing his rhythm. “Take your husband’s cock.”

He starts to pound into me so hard I can feel his balls slapping against my ass.

“Johnathan,” I moan, and he pushes me down, forcing me to take more of him in this new position.

Something starts to build inside me, something so strong, so overwhelming, I’m a little terrified of it. I start to fight it, but in this position I can’t escape the intense sensation.

I shove at his shoulders, but it only causes more of his weight to come down on top of me.

“Stop fighting it, Beth,” he orders, the force of his body nearly crushing me to the bed.

“I can’t,” I whine, my head thrashing back and forth.

Each time his cock pounds inside me, he’s hitting a spot that threatens to drive me mad.

“You can,” he declares, breathing heavily.

The sensation builds and builds. It’s an intense pressure that feels like no other pressure I’ve ever felt before.

“Johnathan, please, it’s too much… I can’t,” I nearly wail in my desperation to escape the thing threatening to overtake me.

But he won’t let me get away. He’s forcing me to face it head-on.

Suddenly, his relentless pace increases, and he’s grunting and groaning loudly with all the effort it takes.

“I’ve got you. Look at me,” he demands, and somehow I manage to open my eyes.

“I’ve got you,” he repeats, and I believe him, I trust him, as I focus on his face.

Knowing he’s there to catch me when I fall gives me the courage to let go.

A mind-blowing orgasm rocks through me, totally destroying me. Every muscle in my body locks up as I scream out his name.

Gush after gush of pleasure bursts through me.

And Johnathan doesn’t stop. No, he keeps driving into me as if he’s trying to fucking kill me.

I claw at him, part of me trying to pull him closer and part of me trying to push him away.

“Beth,” he finally roars, and I feel him swelling up inside me.

Then there’s warmth. So much warmth. His warmth mixing with my warmth.

His pace begins to slow to deep, grinding thrusts, and the orgasm ravaging my body finally begins to abate.

“Fuck, Beth, fuck,” he shudders and stills, trapped in the grip of my convulsing pussy.

I tremble beneath him helplessly until the last tremor of my release fades away.

“Holy fuck,” I whisper, and Johnathan grins down at me before collapsing, crushing me with his weight.

“Baby, I think you’ve finally milked all the cum out of me,” he groans.

I smile and press my lips to his ear, “I’m never wearing panties again, just so you know.”

Wrapped up in Johnathan’s strong arms, it feels like my eyes just closed when his phone starts ringing.

“Fuck,” he grumbles, and rolls me with him to grab his phone off his nightstand. His eyes squint at the screen and he mutters another “Fuck,” before swiping it on.

“Yeah?” he snaps, lifting the phone to his ear.

I can hear a muffled, deep voice speaking on the other end.

“Now? Shit. Okay. Give me ten.”

Johnathan fumbles with his phone before just tossing it back to his nightstand. His hands run down my back, lingering at my waist, and then slide back up.

I stretch and feel like purring beneath his touch.

Without warning, he rolls me over onto my back and grabs up my hands. His stretches my arms above my head, keeping a firm grip on my wrists.

I blink up at him in sleepy confusion as his weight comes down on my thighs, pinning me to the bed beneath him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, not liking the scowl on his face.

This morning, I thought we had come to an understanding.

“I have to leave,” he says, hovering above me.

His body is taut. The muscles in his arms flex as he stares down, and still I don’t understand what I did to make him so mad.

His grip on my wrists remains firm and the way he has me stretched out is far from comfortable, but I don’t dare try to fight it.

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