The wet sound of me moving inside her echoed off the walls like a rhythm of madness, her juices slicking my cock and coating the desk under her.
She was breathless, wrecked.
Hair messy, lips swollen, body twitching with every thrust.
I gripped her throat lightly—not choking, just enough to hold her there and make her feel owned.
"You hear that?" I whispered, leaning down so my lips brushed her ear. "That's the sound of you getting ruined."
Clap.
She whimpered, then cried out when I slammed in deeper, holding myself inside her for a long second, grinding slow. Her walls clenched around me like she was trying to pull me in even more.
"You love this, don't you?"
Her answer was a desperate nod and a breathy, broken, "Yes—God, yes."
I let go of her wrists and gripped her thighs instead, spreading her open wider. She moaned loud when I bent her legs up toward her chest, folding her completely for a deeper angle.
And when I slammed into her like that—
Her scream shattered the room.
Clapclapclapclap—
I didn't stop. Couldn't. She was dripping, soaking me, her slick making every thrust sound filthy.
"Peter—fuck—I can't—"
"You will." I kissed her hard again, tongue owning her mouth. "You'll take every drop of me."
I felt her coming again before she could say another word.
Her legs shook. Her nails clawed at my back. Her moans broke into helpless little sobs of pleasure.
And when she came, it was loud, messy, and perfect.
I groaned, finally letting go, slamming deep one last time as I emptied inside her, her name falling from my lips like a curse and a prayer all at once.
Her body collapsed under mine, completely wrecked—skin flushed, chest rising and falling like she'd just run through a war zone of pleasure.
I kissed her slow this time. Deep. Soft. Letting the fire die down just enough.
"Still breathing?" I murmured against her lips.
She nodded weakly, voice nothing but a whisper. "Barely..."
I smirked, brushing my thumb over her cheek, then down to trace her collarbone, her chest, her trembling stomach. "Good. Because that was round one."
By the time we reached the master bedroom, she was panting like she'd just run through a storm barefoot—wild, desperate, soaked in sweat and need. Her legs were wobbling, lips swollen from kissing, screaming, begging.
She kicked the door open with a bare foot, eyes burning with something wild—like she wasn't just turned on, she was starving. Still breathless, still shaking, but her grip on my wrist didn't loosen. She pulled me inside the master bedroom like she owned the moment.
Not a word passed between us.
The room was dim, lit only by the city glow outside the balcony windows and the flicker of the hallway light slipping through the crack in the door. The shadows painted her curves in gold and silver, and when she turned to face me, her chest heaving, nipples still hard from the cold air... I damn near dropped to my knees.
But she didn't let me.
She pushed me onto the bed, hard. I landed with a grunt, back against the mattress, head sinking into her pillows that still smelled like lavender and skin. Before I could say anything, she straddled my thighs, her soaked center barely brushing the tip of my cock.
I hissed.
She smirked.
"You said every room," she whispered, voice hoarse and wicked.
And then she sank down.
Slow. Torturous. The wet heat of her wrapping around me like silk set on fire. My eyes rolled back. She was still so damn tight, pulsing, squeezing around me with a rhythm that felt intentional, almost teasing.
Her hands were on my chest, nails dragging down my ribs as she rolled her hips in lazy circles.
The sound of her—those breathy, trembling moans, half-whimpers and half-power—blended with the sticky, wet claps every time she lifted and dropped onto me. Her thighs slapped against my hips, slick and frantic, but she didn't rush.
She was in control.
She rocked back, leaning on her hands now, putting her whole body into the ride—spine arching, hair cascading down her back like a damn waterfall. Her mouth fell open, gasping my name every time I hit that spot deep inside her.
"P-Peter... right there, fuck—don't move, don't—" She was fucking riding me on the same bed she makes a four-minute sex each month with her husband and sleep. Such a woman deserved more!
Her hips bucked harder. The sound of her ass smacking against my skin was sharp, echoing off the bedroom walls, loud and unapologetic. The bed creaked beneath us, headboard tapping the wall like a slow metronome counting down to madness.
I reached up, thumbs brushing her nipples, watching her shiver. Then I pinched—gently, then harder—and her whole body convulsed.
Her moan turned guttural.
"Ah—fuck—!"
She dropped forward, lips crashing onto mine, hips still grinding with messy, desperate rhythm. Tongue tangled, spit shared, breath stolen. My hands gripped her ass, guiding her faster now, pushing her over the edge even though she was the one in charge.
"You look like a goddess," I murmured against her mouth. "You feel like sin."
Her eyes fluttered. "Then fuckin' worship me."
And I did—lifting my hips, matching her every bounce, every twist of her body, until she was sobbing into my neck, shaking with another orgasm that made her whole body clench around me.
The sound of us—slapping skin, gasping breaths, the slick suction as she rode me—filled the room with no shame.
And she kept going.
Even after she came, she didn't stop.
She wanted to burn it into her body.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The sound of her soaking wet skin meeting mine drove me crazy.
"Look at you," I groaned. "Fucking goddess. Riding me like you'll die if you stop in your husband's bedroom."
She leaned in, forehead to mine, lips brushing as she whimpered, "More reasons why I won't stop."
Her voice cracked—pure emotion wrapped in lust—and she ground down hard, rolling her hips, wringing every inch of me like she was wringing out her own sanity.
I could feel it building in her, right there under my hands—every muscle in her body tensing, shivering. I reached out and rubbed her clit~
And then—
She shattered.
"Fucking pathetic mannnn~~~ Yes my man, ahhhhhh~~"
Her moan was a broken scream of cursing her pathetic husband while praising me the..., a whimper, a sob all at once. Her body locked up, shaking, grinding through every wave of release. She collapsed onto my chest, twitching, gasping, clinging to me like I was the only thing keeping her from vanishing.
She was trembling now, thighs quivering around my waist, her moans no longer soft but guttural, raw, like she was unraveling from the inside out. Sweat glistened down her collarbone, her breasts bouncing every time she slammed herself down on me.
"Peter," she gasped, voice cracking. "I—I still cumming... I'm gonna—"
"I've got you," I growled, sitting up fast, wrapping my arms tight around her back. My lips found her neck, biting gently, then kissing the mark like I owned every inch of her. "You're not coming alone."
I thrust up, hard, and her cry tore through the room like a spark lighting dynamite.
Her walls clenched down on me, impossibly tight, and I felt the moment it hit her. Her entire body locked, back arched, mouth wide open but no sound coming out at first—just this beautiful, desperate silence as pleasure short-circuited her brain.
Then—
"PETER—!"
She fucking squirted on my cock and I could feel the pressure, and it was everything. Her nails dug into my back, dragging like she was trying to anchor herself while her orgasm crashed wave after wave through her.
Her legs spasmed around me, her slick coating my cock in heat and need, and that was it.
My control snapped.
"F-fuck—"
I buried myself deep, balls tightening, and let go.
"Cum inside me, Daddy~~" And that? Shattered my control...
I came with a groan that rattled in my chest, hips jerking up into her still-throbbing heat. The orgasm ripped through me like fire, like bliss, like her body had sucked every last drop of control out of me. I filled her up, pulse after pulse, my breath hitching as we clung to each other, tangled in sweat and love and chaos.
She collapsed against my chest, shaking, twitching from the aftershocks. My arms held her close, my cock still buried inside her, both of us breathless, stuck in that moment where nothing else mattered.
Just the scent of sex, the sound of our hearts racing, and her voice—soft and broken against my skin.
"...we're not done, are we?"
I laughed, breathless. "Hell no."