“Oh, yes,” I groan. “Yes.”

“Yeah?” he asks, dropping down to steal away a damp kiss. My fingernails drag across his back, our lips locking, tongues stealing tastes that we know we shouldn’t take.

He releases my ankle, burying his face in the crook of my neck. His body locks, but his cock feels so much harder, so much bigger.

He’s on the verge. Pulsing. Throbbing. “Cum for me, Angelina. I want to feel you all over my fucking cock. I want to feel how fucking wet you can get just for me.”

I cling to him, his breath running through my hair. He squeezes the hair on my scalp near the back of my neck, pulling out that sweet mix of pleasure and pain.

A little rough sex never hurt anyone… especially me.

In fact, it further increases my appetite. It brings me more pleasure, and when he does it again, I begin to quake beneath him. My hands run down to his hips and I clutch, fingers sliding with the rhythms of his thrusts.

“Give me that pussy, Angel. All of it,” Griffin breathes. “Give it to me.”

And that is exactly what I do. I give it to him, all of me… to him.

I cum so hard around Griffin’s cock that I see shooting stars that mingle with the lightning. As the thunder booms, the crackle of lightning sparking this moment, I shudder and shake, allowing him to bring me beyond oblivion.

My body twitches in ways I never thought possible, eyes squeezing shut, words spewing out of me that I’ve never heard before.

Griffin’s body curls as he tries to bring me back into position. He wins, and the deep strokes of his cock continue to make me drizzle and soak the length of him until, hastily, he cums too.

“Ah, fuck, Angel,” he grunts, voice thick and heavy.

He slams once.

Twice.

Three times, still taking little strokes like he can’t get enough, panting so hard it seems he’s run a marathon. I watch as his face oozes with the pleasure I’d longed to witness since day one—how it is my womanhood that makes him shudder, makes him groan and twitch with each surge of release.

Finally, our bodies settle, and when our eyes lock, our lips do as well. I sigh beneath his kiss, whimpering as he moves his hips and triggers another tender spot. And when he pulls out and flops beside me on his back, I can’t fight my smile.

Goodness… I’ve just fucked Griffin Boyd.

My associate in business.

This could ruin a lot, or it could better things.

Whatever.

That doesn’t matter right now because right now all I can think about is this.

Sex with Boyd.

And I can’t lie. He has some pretty amazing dick.

EIGHT

Griffin

I lay flat on my back, panting out labored breaths.

That was an incredible fuck.

My God, this woman’s pussy is just as I imagined.

Wet, waxed, and tight. Every man’s dream.

Angelina sighs and runs her palms over her face, pitching a giggle. She’s embarrassed, but honestly she shouldn’t be the embarrassed one.

In my drunken stupor I came onto her. I claimed her mouth with the bottle of whiskey that I bought, running a trace of it over her lips, marking her. Staking my claim.

I knew better. I fucking knew better, but I meant what I said on the balcony. I’m tired of caring—tired of suffering because I have a wife who doesn’t love me.

But, my God, I think I will trade it all if I can have Angelina over and over again. A woman that I can please physically and mentally. A woman that will grant me access whenever I wish.

Hmm… maybe I should file for that divorce. No use in dragging dead weight. No use in prolonging this mess of a marriage I’m in.

“So… um…” Angelina perches up on her elbow, looking me over. Sheen coats the front half of my body and when her eyes go down to my satisfied dick I laugh.

“Um?” I tease, cupping my relaxed sack.

“That was… amazing. I can’t even put up a front.” She smiles hard, running a hand across my chest.

“I, uh, should probably apologize, right?” I sit up, looking down at her.

She scrambles to sit up as well, brows puckering. “What? No, way. I… well, God, Griffin…” she laughs hoarsely, dropping her gaze. “Well, if I have to spell it out to make you understand, then I will. I wanted this to happen.”

I quirk a brow. “With me?”

She nods.

“You understand that I am married, correct?”

“I know.” She folds her arms, concealing her once exposed breasts. Her eyes drop, and I feel shitty for making her feel insecure so I reach forward, pulling her arms down and sliding in closer. She doesn’t resist.

I tilt her chin back up, lean in, and place a tender kiss on her mouth. She sighs behind it, eyelids fluttering. I sense hope deep inside her and it’s wrong of her to feel.

Time to set some things straight.

“Angelina,” I breathe, laying her flat on her back.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want you to think much will come out of this… out of me and you.”

She blinks up at me as I kiss her cheek. “I… don’t. It’s just sex, right?”

“Right. But… I’m just saying. This—well, shit, I have never done anything like this before. Mess around behind my wife’s back, I mean.”

“So what does that mean? That you feel guilty about all this?” Her face stiffens. She doesn’t dare blink as she watches my face for signs of doubt, hints of regret.

I let out a hoarse laugh, head shaking. “Actually… no. I mean don’t get me wrong, I know I should but… I don’t.” My throat works hard to swallow. “It just means that you are one hell of a woman, Angel.”

“How can you call me that?” she asks bashfully, cheeks blazing. “I… tempted you—I mean subtly, yeah…but still. In a way, I made you want me. I am no angel Griff.”

“Griff.” I smirk. She looks at me, confused. “I like it. The only person that ever called me that was father and my mother.”

She smiles. “Aww. That’s cute.”

I laugh. “I guess. But back to you… yes,” I murmur, grabbing hold of her chin again and kissing those supple pink lips. “You are an angel. A sexy. Beautiful. Angel.”

Between each word, I’m kissing her full mouth and drawing her slender body closer. She moans when my tongue slips between her lips. I collect a taste, fingers running up her thighs until I’m at her clit.

“What about your wife?” she breathes.

I shrug. “She’ll never find out… not that she’d even care if she did.”

“I don’t believe that to be true.” Her breath hitches when I circle her clit and run a finger deep inside. “About her not caring, I mean.”

“It’s true. Don’t worry about her, alright?”

Right now I don’t want to think about the wife who despises me. I want to keep pleasing this angel before me, coat her sweet, tight little pussy with my cum until I’m fucking dry. Adorn her slick walls with traces of my pleasure.

So I aim to make her cum again, dipping into her pussy with two fingers before drawing them out. I press a hand against her chest and ease her onto her back.

“Lay still for me, Angel,” I breathe, placing my head between her legs. “I’m about to take care of you right now, but when I’m done I’m going fuck you senseless. Make you milk my cock again. Sound good?”

“So good,” she breathes with an adorable smile, and after she replies I suck on that clit and fuck her pussy with my mouth. No hands required. It’s just enough.

Her body reacts to every touch, every trace of my tongue.

When I nibble, she bucks.

When I suck, she moans.

When I lick, she grabs my hair.

It’s perfection, really. I have to admit that right now, I don’t feel like a married man. I feel like a young college boy with much more control.