She sipped her second glass of Prosecco as dinner cooked. Bubbles danced on her tongue before the cold liquid slipped slowly down her throat. Bronwyn checked her phone before sneaking into her photos. Her screen lit up with the shot she’d taken of his face as he slept the week before. His beard squashed by the pillow, and his delicate eyelashes framing his eyes. The photo cut above his chest, which she knew was covered in hair that she ran her fingers through when they cuddled. That’s when she wasn’t scraping her nails slowly down his skin, teasing him before brushing her fingertips against his growing erection.
Had it been a whole week since he’d been inside her? His work took him all over the country, but every weekend Penn came back to her. Sometimes they’d screw and sleep, and other days they’d see the city. She brushed crumbs from the tabletop, remembering that was where he’d had her the week before when they were supposed to be eating breakfast. Instead, he’d run his hands beneath the t-shirt she’d stolen from him before pushing it up and licking every inch of skin she made available to him.
For months they’d been carrying on like this. It had started as an Instagram DM, and now six months later, they spent every moment they weren’t working together. So was this the weekend to try and define their relationship, or would she be pushing him somewhere he didn’t want to be?
She didn’t want to lose him, and not because he was the best sex she’d had. It was true he understood her body in a way no one else had. He responded to her moans and let her try things her exes had been too reluctant to consider. A month earlier, they’d tried blindfolds and tying up. It had been safe and sexy and had been a reminder that he was the only one she wanted for the foreseeable future. But the reasons she didn’t want to lose him went beyond that. They laughed all the time, including during awkward sex moments like when her Fitbit had hit ten thousand steps during a blow job. He was someone she felt safe with, and when he returned to her at the weekends, she gave him a space to be himself. People had hurt him before, and he became a little more at peace with who he was with each moment they spent together. But more than any of this, she’d never felt so alive until he’d been in her world. Every day was an adventure she was excited to meet. He had done this for her, and she wanted it for longer. But what did he want?
Bronwyn rechecked her phone. Five minutes until he was due to arrive. She read his text from half an hour ago again. It was mostly made up of expletives. He wasn’t very good at talking to Siri. The messages were all the same, something attempting sexy turning into a mistake and then telling Siri to fuck off at the end. This one had an added, “let’s talk this weekend”, though. Was this the beginning of the end, or did he want the same as her? I can’t get my hopes up.
She sipped her prosecco to ease the tension that had heightened all day before lifting her feet and rolling her ankles one by one. Instead, she focused on the pain at the balls of her feet from her four-inch heels she refused to remove before he arrived. If he asked, Bronwyn would suggest she hadn’t had time to change from her blue pencil skirt that hugged her bottom and her black blouse that clung to her breasts. But she’d had enough time to change and add the underwear that reminded her she was sexy and sassy.
She rolled her ankle again, satisfied when it made a slight clicking sound. But these little attempts at distracting herself weren’t enough. Earlier that day, Bronwyn’s colleagues had accused her of being doe-eyed when in reality, she was replaying the moment she’d gone down on him in the shower. It wasn’t textbook sexy, especially the moment the water had gone up her nose when she’d wrapped her lips around his dick. But the way he flicked her hair off the back of her neck before holding it in his palm as he moaned the nickname only the two of them knew had made it impossible to focus. Having him in her mouth was a turn on that never seemed to stop. She wanted to jump him when he arrived, but he’d been in meetings all day, and dinner was nearly ready. Food first and then maybe the conversation.
His key scratched the lock. Bronwyn caught her reflection in the oven door. With some well-applied makeup, she didn’t look as weary as she felt. Lipstick in the colour of pink haze emphasised the bow of her lips, and her eyelashes were long and perfect for fluttering and getting her way.
She smoothed down her pencil skirt and dipped her hand into her bra to shift her boobs higher. The lady at the wedding dress shop where her sister had purchased her wedding gown had shown her this tactic. The slight readjustment gave her irresistible cleavage. She gave herself a quick wink in the oven and then laughed. It was just another tactic to calm her down. The wedding was another reason to define their relationship. She had a plus one but hadn’t risked mentioning it. The wedding was in less than a month, and she couldn’t avoid asking him any longer. But what if that meant the end of everything?
The creek of her front door was followed by the thud of his bags in the hallway. Her belly thumped harder. Lust was like a wrecking ball striking her so hard that she wanted to bend double. How had the presence of this man become something that clouded her entire being with arousal?
“Where’s my kiss, Bruny?” he growled from the hallway. Earlier in the day, he’d requested a picture of her outfit. He did this every day, and sometimes she’d respond with an eye roll emoji and other times, she was more than happy to oblige. It might be from an angle that showed off her chest or her thighs. That always drove him wild. She’d never understood what it was about her thighs he loved. It had been one of her most hated body parts, but she’d learnt to love them since him. That day she’d sent him a couple of shots. Each vibration of her phone when he replied had made her body hum with need. Finally, at his last message, she’d gasped loud enough to draw the attention of her closest co-worker.
“I won’t be happy until I feel those thighs on my cheeks as you straddle my face.”
He was too good to lose. Couldn’t he be a bastard instead of a secret nice guy? He carried the air of arsehole, and he’d once chuckled at how he looked for excuses to shout at his team. One had been scared to bring back his lunch because they’d only been able to buy a turkey sandwich when he’d asked for chicken. But with her, he was more than an arsehole. She couldn’t deny that he had an air of arrogance, even in the bedroom, but his understanding of her needs went beyond that. Whether it was messaging to tell her she’d made his heart flutter when she’d told him he’d made her smile or that he’d stepped out of a work meeting on “important business” because she’d sent him images while trying to decide her outfit for her job interview. He was there for her in a way that terrified her, but she craved it all the same.
“Bruny,” he called out using the nickname he’d given her. “I’m still waiting for that kiss.”
If any man from her past had asked where their kiss was, she’d have rolled her eyes and told them to fuck off. She often told him to fuck off too, but partly to make him laugh, which it always did. With his local accent and deep voice, the ripple of need pulled her out of the kitchen. She rested against the doorway and smirked as he took her in. His gaze dropped to her black heels and slowly climbed. She shifted awkwardly. His eye fuck was as much a game as the messages that had flown between them all day.
“Fuck, Princess. You kept that on for me?” Another thing that would have made her roll her eyes if she heard it between other couples. Did he think he was an Eastend gangster? And yet, when he called her Princess, it teased her as intimately as if he’d run a finger down her spine while she waited for him in the shower. He shrugged off his suit jacket, leaving him in fitted dark trousers and a white shirt. Casual or smart, she didn’t care but there was still something about the way he rolled up his sleeves, one arm at a time.
She shrugged. “I didn’t have time to change.”
“Not even your shoes, it seems,” he replied unconvinced. His mouth twitched in amusement as his gaze paused at thighs before travelling up to her eyes. “I want you on the stairs right now.”
Bronwyn locked eyes with him. “But dinner is ready, sweet cheeks, and I can’t have you going hungry.”
He cleared his throat noisily. “That hasn’t stopped you from sending me teasing photos and messages all day. Where did you say you wanted my mouth again?” he replied, his eyes burning a hole through her skirt. “Stairs now.”
She licked her lips and turned on her heel, striding back into the kitchen. “Dinner first,” she replied over her shoulder, sassily swaying her hips, confident he would be unable to resist her tease as the beep of the oven timer acted as a soundtrack to her steps.
Penn’s grumbling from the hallway made her smile as she took the lasagne out of the oven. The cheese bubbled, and her belly responded in frustration. But her thoughts remained on him. She didn’t want this to be their last weekend together, but if their thing wasn’t going anywhere, she couldn’t keep doing this. I’m falling for him. She’d planned her week to maximise distractions in case this was it between them. He had become her every day. With his morning messages and goodnight gifs, she couldn’t imagine her days without him. He helped her through her difficult days, and she hoped she did the same for him.
And what if I compare all future sex to ours? Her partners came up short compared to him. But it would have to be a goodbye. Maybe I don’t have to say anything this weekend. There was always next weekend. But she couldn’t avoid the inevitable forever.
Bronwyn took a deep breath. Aromas of freshly cooked tomatoes and hot melted cheese filled the air.
Penn’s lips skimmed her neck. She closed her eyes and moaned quietly.
“Bruny, tell me about your day,” he whispered, easing in behind her. Had he sensed she was struggling with something? How could she tell him that work had barely entered her thoughts? It was all him. Her skin tingled where the wetness from his lips remained.
Her pussy twitched as he aligned himself against her curves. She wriggled her bum against him needing to feel him even if it was only for one more weekend. I need to write him onto my body as much as he’s written into my mind. Only Penn could ease the torture of her day, even when it was him who tortured her. Whether she was laughing or crying, his presence and humour were a respite from everything from callous subordinates to suffering family members. He made each day better, and she had to prepare for the moment she lost that for good.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Can I leave it at the door for tonight?” Bronwyn asked softly, hoping he would gauge her mood and not push her.
He pulled the elastic that kept her hair together in a ponytail out. Penn threaded his fingers roughly through the strands causing slight stinging sensations that reached up to her scalp. She gasped and let out a slow breath before leaning into his touch. His body was hard against hers. The twitch at his crotch was a reminder that sex was never far from either of their minds.
She bristled as Penn worked out a knot. It pulled at her scalp, causing a sting of pain. It was another moment where she focused on him and not the fear of the future. With a breath so deep that it made her chest rise and fall, she let his scent fill her. It was as if it was him and not the woody smell latching on to something oceanic and fresh filled her cells as they travelled around her body. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down.
“Princess, shouldn’t we be eating that dinner now?” he said with a growl. He’s not thinking about food.
“I don’t want dinner anymore,” she replied, flattening her hands on the oak counter. She pushed back slightly against Penn and rubbed her bum against his crotch. His dick was hard against her arse, and she ground slowly. He slid his hands to rest on hers. His body closed her into the worktop. They were aligned as she leant her head against his chest and closed her eyes.
“No?” he asked with a hint of a tease. “Are you sure, Bruny? I’ve been hungry all day. Don’t you think we should eat this dinner you’ve prepared before it gets cold?”
It’s one of his tests. He wants me to demand he fucks me. They loved arguing with each other and urging each other to give pleasure, especially when they’d spent all day craving it. But Bronwyn was as stubborn as he was and had no intention of giving in to him, even though she wanted to. The conflict was as much foreplay as his perceptive touches.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” she replied lightly before reaching for the plates. “I’d hate for things to go cold.”
She caught his furrowed brow and pouting mouth before he engaged his breezy tone and fake smile. It was the one he used with his team when he knew shouting wouldn’t work. From their first meeting, she knew they were well-matched. They both knew how to get their way which was why he was her ultimate challenge and the only man she wanted to be spending her evenings with. Getting your way was much more fun when you had to battle for it. Sometimes it was a fight of wills, and other days they both tried to seduce each other into submission.
He grabbed the utensils as she quickly dished up the lasagne that could have easily stayed warm while they enjoyed more pleasurable things, but this was their game.
“Tell me about your day,” she said, easing next to him at the small round wooden table. Her hand brushed his as she wrapped it around the pepper dispenser. The spark of need hit her in the belly, and she smiled. For the years before she met him, emptiness had been the only emotion inside her.
Over the last months, she had come alive. Others had noticed the change, and friends had commented on her everlasting smiles and the joy she took in moments that before would have floored her. Some of them had met him for a night out at the pub. He made them laugh as he told stories from his past on the streets of Coventry, but it was the way he cared for her that they admired. The glances when he was checking in on her, his support because she was nervous at being out in new places, and the whispers in her ear to remind her that she was gorgeous. It wasn’t that she didn’t know it, but the memories of years of rejection bought the odd wave of low confidence. Those low self-esteem moments had reduced since him. His instincts when managing her anxiety scared her at times, especially as their conversations played on her mind.
He topped up her glass with the bottle of the prosecco she’d left on the table. “Well, this vixen has been teasing me all day with her sexy photos and saucy messages.”
Bronwyn licked her lips. “Vixen, eh?”
“The sexiest vixen,” he smiled. “At one point during my meeting, I checked my messages and saw one that mentioned her laying on the kitchen table as I licked her slowly, followed by a photo of her skirt tight against her upper thighs. I was vaguely aware of my colleague presenting something important, but I have no idea what. All I wanted was to slide the vixen’s skirt up higher and feel how wet she was for me.”
“You fucker,” Bronwyn said before taking a deep breath. How did he make something arousing sound like a conversation about the most mundane?
“Excuse me?” he asked with a smirk.
She shoved some lasagne and green leaves into her mouth. Gooey cheese coated her tongue as she shook her head at him. She would get her own back as soon as he found what she had on under her outfit. As he looked down, she popped open another button on her blouse, playing him at his own game.
As soon as he looked up, he smiled. He didn’t miss a trick. “Have I seen that bra before?”
She shrugged, pretending to finish her mouthful. Penn’s hand brushed her knee. She usually hated wearing tights or anything like that, and he knew this. His hand paused at the nylon covering her legs as he locked eyes with hers. His lips parted as he stared at her. Bronwyn opened her legs, inviting more of his touch.
“You’re wearing tights?” he whispered, his words saturated with heat.
Air escaped between her lips. “Not exactly.”
His hand paused. His breathing was slower now, and his Adam’s apple bobbed at his throat. “Not exactly?” he repeated, his voice gravelly. His hand climbed higher. She opened her legs wider once more as his fingertips made circles about her knee.
Her teeth tugged at her plump lower lip.
The room was silent except for a song by The Weeknd playing on the speaker. The low beat matched her climbing heartbeat. It pulsated through her veins as Penn gripped her thigh tightly.
“No, not exactly. Similar though,” Bronwyn said, forming her words slowly as desire took hold. He was about to find out what she’d hidden under her work outfit.
His hand paused at the lace top of her hold-ups. He fingered the delicate material and leaned in close, dusting her lips with his. “Princess,” he growled, his lips still against hers. “I want you in bed right now. And you can leave the shoes on.” He kissed her again, but this time his lips were hard against hers. He grabbed her hand.
“I thought you’d never ask,” she teased the lasagne and difficult conversations forgotten as they jumped up and headed towards the door.
When they reached her bedroom, she pushed him against the door and kissed him hard. Bronwyn ran her hands through his hair, pulling at the dark strands and scratching his scalp as she sought to get more from him. He parted his lips, and she slipped her tongue into his mouth. Goose pimples covered her arms as his hand went to her bum and began to kneed it as she took the kiss deeper. His beard scratched at her skin. She couldn’t keep her hands still. The headiness of the kiss blinded her, and suddenly she realised she was clawing at the buttons of his shirt.
“Bruny, I have promises to keep with you tonight. Get on the bed” He pressed his lips together. The provocative act ramped her desire for him up further.
He kneeled over her as she lay on the bed. With his hands on either side of her head, he kissed her plump lips. She moaned into his mouth and fisted his shirt in her hands, but he pulled away and slowly undid the buttons of her blouse. At the turquoise lace of her bra, he growled. “I don’t remember seeing this in your photos. I guess you did have time to change today,” he said with a wink.
Bronwyn smiled coyly. “Maybe.”
“And do the knickers match?”
Heat saturated her body as she whispered, “What knickers?”
“Fuck,” he grunted. He ripped off Bronwyn’s skirt, sliding it down her legs and tossing it across the room. She lay before him in her hold-ups, bra and heels. He dived to her mouth, pressing his lips hard against hers as she wrapped her legs around him. He gripped her thigh where skin met lace. For a man who spent his spare time pumping iron, he was delicate when it came to her underwear. Bruny moaned into his mouth as his kisses became more fervent. The sharp point of her heels pressed against the back of his thighs. She lifted her hips to rub her pussy against his groin, but it wasn’t close enough.
Penn pulled back. “Time to ride my mouth, Bruny.”.
“But I want you inside me,” she murmured.
“There’s plenty of opportunity for that later,” he smiled. “Bra off.”
Usually, she’d hate someone telling her what to do, but Penn’s demands made her ache. She stripped off her bra as they swapped positions. He lay on her pillow, slowly undoing his shirt as he watched her. She ran her teeth across her lip. “Can I give your cock a quick lick first?”
She didn’t wait for any other words. Her heart thudded in her chest as Bronwyn undid his button and pulled down his zipper before yanking down his trousers and boxers. His cock sprung free, causing her fingers to tremble. Pre-cum beaded the tip of his cock, and she ran her finger across it with a wide-eyed stare.
“You said lick,” he grunted.
“But I like looking at it,” she replied with a smile as she winked and put the tip of her finger between her teeth to recreate one of his favourite cheeky gifs. He rolled his eyes with a smile.
She bent her head and gave his cock a lick. Her tongue stroked the length of his erection. She wrapped her mouth around it and sucked the head. His hands held her head. “You said lick. Now get over my face,” he snarled.
“Fucker,” she replied.
As she crawled up his body, he mumbled, “No one else gets to call me that. It’s only you.”
Her knees rested on either side of his face as she slowed eased herself down. Bronwyn gasped as the tip of his tongue teased her clit. The stubble on the edge of his cheeks scratched her inner thighs. Although she felt safe with him, she still got anxious when doing his act. She had to open herself up to being vulnerable and trust he wouldn’t push her off if she went too far. Penn’s intuition must have recognised her nervousness, or he was already in the mood as he quickly slapped her bum before grabbing it tightly and holding her against his mouth. He squeezed her arse, manipulating it and encouraging her to move. She ground herself against him as he licked and sucked her clit.
“Don’t stop,” she cried out, forgetting her anxiety.
The scent of her wetness combined with the musty smell of his aftershave. Even if this was the last thing they did together before the talk and end of the relationship, she knew the scent would never leave her subconscious.
She sped up, riding his face as he pushed his tongue inside her. Sweat dripped down her chest as she pressed her hands flat against the wall. One of his hands disappeared from her arse, and she knew he’d be stroking his cock in time with the thrusts of his tongue. Her head dropped down as she let go of control and gave way to the need that yanked at her belly. Desire was climbing quickly. She wanted that cock in her mouth, but it was impossible from this direction. Nevertheless, the thought of it turned her on and made her speed up and press down harder.
She grabbed tufts of his hair as she rode his face faster. Her moans rose in volume, and she looked down to see his eyes on her. He’d told her before he loved watching her breasts when she was above him like this. She grabbed one of them, leaned back and attempted to catch his eye. He winked back. A sheen of sweat covered her body. One hand pressed flat against the cold wall, and with the other, she grabbed his hair. Bronwyn couldn’t sit still. Every shift of her body was to get more of his tongue on her and in her.
Her legs shook, and a cry rose in her throat. Already she was on the brink of coming. Her anxiety climbed again, but Penn’s understanding of her kicked in, and he wrapped his hands around the top of her thighs. He set a fast rhythm, pulling her hard against him. She bit down on her lip as his tongue pushed inside her again. A sharp cry left her mouth, but he held her fast. Bronwyn’s moans filled the room, and she gasped for breath.
She closed her eyes and pressed down again. His tongue reached deeper, and she ground against him.
“I’m so close,” she cried out.
She lost herself to the moment and the temptation to overthink her body. His fingertips dug into her thighs, and she let go of all her stress. Bronwyn immersed herself in his desire. Heat filled her limbs, and her body momentarily froze before shaking. Her climax owned her entirely, and she fisted her hair as she rode it out.
With a quivering body, she slid down him and lay flat on her back, panting as he stood and removed the rest of his clothes. Penn’s cock was hard and throbbing.
His grinning mouth shone with her wetness as he climbed back on the bed and lay next to her. He leant on his side, his cock hard against her leg.
“I think you enjoyed that, Bruny?”
He laughed at her side-eye, still too breathless to make sense. She kissed him hard. He tasted of her arousal. Please don’t let it be our last weekend together.
She reached for his cock, but he held her hand in his. “What’s going on, Bruny. You’ve been distracted since I arrived. It’s more than hornyness. What’s going on in your head?” He tucked a strand of hair, now frizzy from their activities, behind her ear. The intimacy of the act made her belly flutter. He wasn’t a carefree fuck anymore; she’d invested her heart against her better judgement.
“I can’t tell you right now,” she murmured. Penn’s big brown eyes fixed hers. Although she wanted to hide her vulnerability, she couldn’t look away.
“How come?” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers.
“Because everything I’ve read has told me not to talk about the future during fucking because men will say anything, especially if they’re hard and want sex.”
“That makes sense. But when have you known me to say anything but what I think? I only-”
“I know, “Say what I think and do what I want”. You don’t speak unless you have something to say, and no one can tell you what to say, however hard they try,” she replied cheekily, cutting him off.
He smirked. “Yeah, I’ve said that before, then?”
She smiled as he grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers. “Once or twice or a thousand times. It’s one of your many Penn-isms.”
Bronwyn sighed loudly and rolled her eyes, unable to look directly into his. “Fine. I was wondering what is this? Are we a couple, exclusive or whatever? Are we seeing other people?”
“I’m not, are you?”
“No,” she replied, her gaze flitting around the room.
“Look at me, Bruny.” Bronwyn looked back at him. “I am dating you and only you. This thing between us is for the foreseeable future, and that’s how I like it. So if you want to label it, then yeah, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. But only if you’re happy with that.”
Her grin was wide enough to hurt her cheeks. “Yeah, I’m happy.”
He planted a kiss on her lips. It was soft and gentle and made her toes curl. “And if you think you’re taking anyone but me to your sister’s wedding, then you’re very wrong. I saw the plus one on the invitation. I’ve been waiting weeks for you to ask me. I’ve got my best suit and shirt ready to go and my shoes polished.”
A squeal left her mouth, surprising both of them.
“That was new,” Penn said with a chuckle.
Bronwyn covered her burning face with her hand.
“Oh, Bruny, don’t hide that beautiful face from me.” He took her hand off her face and kissed her softly. His lips brushed hers briefly before parting her lips with his tongue. She held his bristling jaw in her hand, nibbling at his lip before moving her tongue to massage his. She wanted him again, only this time she needed the cock she’d been craving all day. “Now to make you really squeal, but this time I want to watch you come. Kneel up and face the mirror,” he requested against her lips, giving her one last quick peck.
Bronwyn side-eyed him again as she got into position. He kneeled behind her. He moved her hair to one side and kissed her neck as he had in the kitchen, except this time, he scraped his teeth against her skin. His cock juddered against her, and she pushed her bottom into him. His reflected gaze caught hers.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you like this for a long time. Bend over, Princess,” he grunted. She looked over her shoulder and watched as he covered his cock with lube. He stroked himself slowly as he stared at her bum. Lust burnt deeply throughout her body. “I said bend over,” he growled.
She complied, grabbing the sheets in preparation. Penn grabbed her hips before sliding into her pussy. Temporarily, he rested there. Her heart swelled. Penn wasn’t just her casual fuck who she spent hours trying to work out what the different emotions meant and how he felt about her. He was her boyfriend now, and he was coming to the wedding. A naughty idea of fucking in the bathroom at the wedding reception made her giggle. She pushed against him trying to get him to move inside her as she thought about it.
“Not yet. Kneel up,” Penn growled.
He thrust deeper into her as she reached around and hugged his neck. He murmured how much he wanted her and everything he loved about her while massaging her breast, squeezing her nipple and twisting it gently.
At this angle, she could reach his balls. She held one gently in her hand, massaging it slowly as his cock moved inside her. It wasn’t a hard fuck but sensual and a testament to their chat.
“I love that I’m fucking my girlfriend. My curvy, beautiful, sexy girlfriend,” he growled before speeding up his hips.
He groaned as she kept stroking and playing with his balls in turn. “Fuck, Princess. You know how much I love it when you do that.”
Her stomach clenched at the burn of arousal. She stretched her back as he continued to push against her. “Grab your tits and look at the mirror,” he demanded. She opened her eyes and squeezed her breasts as he slid one hand down to her pussy while the other clutched her hip. He ran circles around her clit with his fingers, spreading the wetness around. The touches sent her arousal soaring.
He locked eyes with her through the mirror as he licked and sucked at her neck. His beard was softer around his lips, and his touch pleasurable. The darkness of his pupils transfixed her. She bit her lips as she watched him, pulling her bottom lip with her teeth. The corners of his mouth raised, but his eyes were still pinning her with their intensity. His fingers rubbed her quicker. Her eyes fluttered closed as she moaned his name.
“Open your eyes. I want to see you come,” Penn growled. She complied, but it was different to before. He moved quicker inside her. The intimacy of the position wasn’t lost on her. Bronwyn focused on the heat of his body burning inside hers. “My dirty Princess.”
She stroked her hard nipples with her thumbs while squeezing her breasts, her eyes never leaving his. “I’m close,” he moaned as he continued to thrust quickly inside her. He sucked at her ear lobe as he growled in her ear.
She was on the brink; her earlier orgasm and his fingers on her clit filled her with desperate need. Her breath came in short sharp gasps as she whimpered for more. He squeezed her hip, pulling her against him, scratching her with his nails. She cried out as she came. Her eyes never left his. His smirk was devilish. The alignment of their bodies was intimate, but his power still radiated through her.
Penn held her close, refusing to let her go as her climax tremored through her.
“Your turn now, sexy,” she said to his reflection. She lightly squeezed his balls as she spoke. “You’re such a sexy bastard, and your cock is the best I’ve ever had inside me. No one fucks me like you do.”
“Don’t stop,” he begged as he continued to thrust.
“My pussy can’t get enough of you. Once we’ve eaten, I’m going to give you a blowjob on the stairs. I’m going to take your cock in my mouth and-”.
“I’m coming,” he shouted. It was her turn to smile smugly. She loved watching her powerful man who spent his life in control let go, especially when she knew she’d got him there. “Fucking sexy minx,” he gasped.
They collapsed hot and sweaty on the bent, their bodies intertwined. “I can’t wait to give you a blowjob at the wedding,” Bronwyn whispered as Penn kissed her forehead and held her tight.
Liked Dinner is Ready? There are more short stories on my website including The Boss, an enemies to lovers workplace story.