It had been one month since their marriage, and Simon and Stella had made love in almost every room of the mansion. Their days were filled with laughter, passion, and moments of pure bliss.
Tonight, however, the air felt different. Stella was bathing while Simon was still caught up in a virtual meeting with his employees regarding a new project. It was already past 11 PM. After having dinner together, Simon had excused himself for work, leaving Stella to shower.
The meeting was drawing to a close. Simon quickly wrapped up the final points, packed his office documents into a box, and shut down his laptop. As he placed it in the drawer, the door creaked open — and his breath caught in his throat.
Stella stepped inside.
She was wearing nothing but a white button-up shirt that barely reached her upper thighs. Her hair was damp, loose tendrils sticking to her neck, and droplets of water slowly seeped into the thin fabric, making her hardened nipples entirely visible. Simon's throat went dry. He felt his cock twitch painfully in his pants.
She hadn't even noticed the effect she had on him.
Simon clenched his jaw, closing the laptop and locking it away. His eyes didn't leave her. The heavy drinks they had at dinner were starting to cloud her minds — or perhaps it was just the desire that had never settled between them.
Stella walked toward him, her hips swaying more than necessary, the effect of alcohol and desire clouding her judgment. She pulled her damp hair to the side, her greenish-blue eyes glazed with lust as she gazed at him like she wanted to devour him. Simon immediately discarded his shirt, his dark gaze fixed solely on her.
Stella placed her hands on his broad shoulders and straddled him. The second her core brushed against his bulge, Simon groaned, gripping her waist firmly.
"Somebody's turned into a desperate tonight," Simon smirked darkly, his voice dripping with sin.
"I am, and I don't know why," Stella whispered breathlessly, her fingers tracing the inked patterns on his chest before she crashed her lips onto his.
Simon let her take control for a few seconds, but his primal desire soon snapped. His hands roamed down her waist, squeezing her ass — and then he froze. His fingers brushed against her bare, dripping cunt.
"Fuck—" he groaned, pulling away from the kiss and looking down. "You're not wearing panties?"
Stella's fingers worked slowly, deliberately unbuttoning her shirt as she held his intense gaze. "No bra. No panties. Only for you," she murmured seductively.
"And a surprise too," she added, and in one slow, deliberate motion, she slid the shirt off her body.
Simon's breath caught in his throat the moment she stood completely bare before him. His cock twitched painfully in his pants, desperate to be buried inside her. No matter how many times he saw her naked, it always drove him absolutely feral.
But then his gaze landed on something — and his entire world shifted. His eyes fixated on the ink just above her left breast, where the words My Husband in merman were elegantly tattooed in cursive.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Simon rasped, his eyes flaring with something beyond desire — pure possession. His jaw clenched as he slowly trailed his fingers over the tattoo. "You… did this?"
Stella swallowed thickly, her heart hammering. She lifted her wrist, revealing another fresh tattoo in elegant cursive — Simon Winchester.
A deep, guttural groan ripped from Simon's throat. His pupils dilated, his entire demeanor shifting into something animalistic. "You branded yourself for me?" he asked slowly.
Stella smiled, her voice filling with love. "I wanted you to know I'm yours. Forever."
Something primal inside Simon snapped. In less than a second, he grabbed her neck and smashed his lips against hers, kissing her like a starved man. His hands gripped her ass, squeezing harshly before yanking her impossibly closer.
"I love you," Simon groaned, his eyes glued to her hardened, perky nipples. His mouth watered at the sight, but before he could make a move, Stella smirked and dropped to her knees.
She reached forward, unbuckling his belt with excruciating slowness. "I want your cock, Simon," she purred, her fingers dragging down his pants and boxers in one swift motion. His thick, hard length sprang free, already leaking precum.
"Fuck—" Simon grunted, his head falling back. "You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart."
Stella didn't care. She straddled his lap, spreading her slick folds wide before slowly, torturously sliding down onto his throbbing cock. Both of them gasped as he filled her inch by inch.
"Holy fucking shit—" Simon groaned, his hands gripping her hips like a vice. "Your tight little cunt… fuck, it's squeezing me like a goddamn vice."
A small smileplayed on her lips as she rolled her hips slowly, deliberately torturing him. "I know," she purred. "And you love it, don't you?"
Simon's jaw clenched, his control snapping. "Don't you fucking dare tease me, Stella. If you start this, there will be serious fucking consequences," he growled. His voice was dark, predatory.
Stella leaned forward, her hands splayed on his chest, her mouth brushing against his ear. "Maybe I want those consequences," she whispered seductively.
Stella's body arched as she rode him, her tight little cunt milking his cock, her tits bouncing like a fucking dream in front of him. Simon groaned, his eyes darkening with sheer carnal need. Fuck, she looked like sin. His mouth latched onto her breast, teeth grazing her sensitive peak as his hands bruised her waist.
"Ahhh—Simon!" she gasped, her walls clenching down hard as her orgasm ripped through her.
"Fuck—" Simon growled, his grip on her ass tightening as he felt her clenching him like a vice. "You are cumming all over my cock like that."
Stella whimpered, her head falling back as she rode out her high.
Simon pulled out of her, leaving her dripping and placed her on the table. But he wasn't done. Not even close.
Without a word, he gripped her thighs and yanked her forward, spreading her wide. His dark eyes locked onto her soaked, swollen pussy, glistening with his cum and her arousal. A wicked smirk curled on his lips.
"Look at this pretty little cunt," he murmured, dragging his fingers through her slick folds before flicking his tongue over her clit. Stella gasped, her body jerking.
"Simon—" she moaned, trying to close her legs, but he pinned them down with bruising force.
"Don't you fucking dare," he warned darkly.
Raising her legs over his shoulders, he buried his face between her thighs. His tongue swept over her clit, painfully slow, before dipping lower, tasting her. His grip tightened as she writhed, her body twitching violently under his merciless assault.
"F-Fuck! Simon, please—" she sobbed, her thighs trembling.
But he didn't stop. His tongue dragged down, licking up every drop of their combined arousal before plunging back up to her aching bundle of nerves. He sucked, licked, and devoured her until she was a quivering mess.
And then—he moved.
Hovering over her, his face glistening with her slick, he lined himself up and, without warning, slammed into her.
"Ahhh—fuck!" Stella screamed, her back arching into a perfect bow.
Simon groaned, his hands gripping her waist as he drove into her relentlessly. Every thrust was punishing, possessive, his hips snapping hard against her as if he wanted to brand himself into her very bones.
"You feel that, sweetheart?" he rasped, biting down on her neck, leaving fresh bruises. "That's me claiming every fucking inch of you."
Stella could only moan, her body overwhelmed, pleasure crashing over her in endless waves. She was exhausted—fucked raw, ruined. And yet, she didn't want it to stop.
Simon felt her body start to slump, her muscles trembling from overuse. Smirking, he pulled out, hoisting her up into his arms.
She expected him to take her to the bed, to finally let her rest.
But Simon had other plans.
As he reached the bedroom door, Stella bit his earlobe, her voice barely a whisper.
"More."
Simon let out a dark chuckle.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, turning on his heel and heading toward the stairs. "You have no idea what you just asked for."
Instead of the bed, he carried her straight into the bathroom—where he planned to ruin her all over again.