It doesn’t last though. No, not when I’m still twitching and shaking hard, not when I can feel my arousal, my climax running down my thighs. Especially not when the love of my life quickly gets behind me, positions himself at my still fluttering pussy and drives his cock deep inside me before he starts pounding into me with a force that can only be described as punishing.
The best kind of punishment.
Zak pulls me up to standing, my back almost flush against his front, then rips the camisole the rest of the way off and palms my breast, twists my nipple, and sends me reeling.
“Watch, Blondie,” he grunts in my ear. “I want you to watch me fuck you, watch me own this pussy while you come all over my cock.”
And because I love this man and his dominant ways, I do exactly as he says.
I look in the mirror and watch where our bodies join, watch his fingers as they dig into my hip, watch his hand on my breast and the way they bounce from the motion of his thrusts. Then I watch Zak’s face, my gaze focused on the look of pure lust, desire, the undying love I see as he kisses my neck and owns me exactly like he said. And when his eye finds mine, that emerald-green jewel clashing with my tawny gaze, my pussy clamps down on his cock so hard I can feel it all the way to my toes and I shatter, explode, scream his name as I rip an orgasm from both of us that might be the biggest one yet.
Zak kisses my shoulder and drops his forehead to the top of my head as his hips slow. “I love you, honey.” Then he smacks my ass when he pulls out and smirks. “Now get dressed. We’re going to be late.”
I scowl at his retreating form, the gloriously naked ass and muscled back, my boyfriend chuckling to himself because he knows damn well we are already late, thanks to him.
I’m not mad though, not at all, and I don’t know if I could ever really be mad at him, not even with all the clothes he’s ripped apart or the furniture he’s destroyed in the throes of passion.
With a goofy smile, flushed cheeks and a heart so full it could explode, I return to looking through my clothes for something appropriate to walk around downtown in. It’s chilly but there hasn’t been much snow, and either way my frozen ass needs as many layers as possible.
“Who’s Tate?” Zak asks as he walks back into the closet wearing a pair of jeans and his boots with my ringing phone in his hand.
I frown as I shimmy into my leggings. “I don’t—oh! Oh my god. Tate?!”
He nods and hands me my iPhone, a furrow to his brow but I’m too shocked, too excited to explain and just swipe my screen and basically scream into the phone.
“Tater! Hi. Oh my god, I’m—“
“Theo...” she whispers, so quiet I almost don’t hear it.
Not good.
Not good at all.
My stomach drops and my pulse kicks up to about a million. “Tate, honey, what’s wrong?”
She sniffles. “I know we haven’t talked in... in a really long time.” Tate sniffles again and keeps whispering. “I’m really sorry about that by the way.”
“Nonsense, honey. You know I’m always here for you.” Zak frowns harder and folds his arms against his chest but I shoot him a look and keep talking. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“I’m in... I’m in a rough spot, Theo, and I know it makes me a terrible person but—“
“What do you need? Tell me what I can do.” I yank a tank top over my head as I start rushing around the closet. My heart is racing so fast I feel like I’m running a marathon. I feel like I’m going to explode through my skin. I can’t believe she called me, after so fucking long too, but she did, and I am going to do whatever I can to help her.
“Theo...” Tate sobs quietly. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Well, you’ve got me. Stuck with me for life, Tater.” Zak scowls as I hip-check him out of the way so I can pull on another tank top and finally whatever sweater I can find. His jealousy is a turn on but it’s very out of place right now, and as soon as I hang up, I’ll explain. “Tell me what I can do.”
“I... I’m not even sure. I just know I need to get out of here as soon as possible.”
Fuck.
Shit.
Shit fuck.
I know what that means.
“Where are you?”
