Page 64 of Desperate Measures

My wife.

But there I was, losing my mind over this woman. This princess who was so far above me in ways she didn’t even realize.

My family history was far from clean, and it was only because I knew her roots were similar to mine that I’d even dared touch her.

Michaela’s soul was as pristine as the ivory clothes that shrouded her most days. But when she was like this—all wild, wet, and warm? All passion and no reason.

That was when I knew she matched me—for better or worse. Michaela was mine now, and I wasn’t letting go.

Her sweet, lush body welcomed me home, and I groaned at how perfect she felt surrounding me.

I gripped her hips, pounding into her, fucking her so hard the whole desk moved with the force of my ministrations.

Reaching between us, I found her needy little clit. I twirled the tight bud between my fingers, pulling more strangled moans from her throat.

My balls tightened, ready to blow. But I needed her there first. Harder, I pistoned my hips. Faster, I strummed my fingers, playing her body like an instrument.

I never needed anything as badly as I needed her to come. No one had ever made me so wild, so fucking unhinged. But that was my orgasm, dammit, and I wanted it.

Right. Fucking. Now.

Never like this before.

“Come for me,” I commanded, growling against her ear.

Then, my sexy little wife loosed a keening moan from her lips. And she did exactly as I said. She started to come.

She came so hard, her cunt damn near strangled my cock.

“Good girl,” I snarled, elation filling me.

This woman brought me to my fucking knees.

Did she know? Could she tell I would do anything for her?

When we were like this, there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. She had me. One hundred percent, I was hers.

Her willing fucking servant. And what’s more? I didn’t care who knew it. I almost wished our office wasn’t soundproofed. But it was probably better that it was.

I couldn’t be responsible for what I’d do if anyone else heard her like this.

All those throaty moans and breathless pants were mine. I wasn’t into sharing.

“Husband,” she whimpered, still in the throes of pleasure.

“That’s right. It’s your husband who makes you come. Let go, Wife. I wanna feel your cunt drip all over my cock. Show me how I make you feel, Sweetheart. Let. Go.”

“Oh God! I am. I’m letting go. I’m coming, Liam. You feel so, fuck, Husband, you feel so good when you fuck me,” she groaned out the words, mouth wide open as her pussy tightened again.

My wife liked dirty words. And I liked saying them.

She’s so fucking perfect. Mine.

“That’s right. I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, make you feel this way.”

I swiveled my hips, feeling my balls tighten, knowing I was seconds from following her into bliss.

“You’re such a filthy little wife taking me like this, aren’t you? My dirty little sweetheart, coming to the office with no panties, letting me fuck you on your desk. Take it, Wife, take me,” I growled, slamming home one more time.