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Her eyebrows wrinkled.
“Now!” I growled.
She did as she was told. I stood on my knees behind her, slamming into her pussy. My eyes shut briefly as I held my position. I quickened my pace. Six months, I fucking moped around all because I lost the one woman I fucking ever desired.
“Oh, shit, Zander! I’m coming again.” Her ass grazed my palms as her face brushed back and forth against the chenille sofa.
“Not, yet. I loved you, Vicky. Last summer you should have made the decision to be with me. I didn’t want to be in the presence of another woman.”
My balls slapped her pussy with each thrust. Hovering over her, I gripped her hair, and clenched her earlobe between my teeth. “You’ve fucked me up. You make me crazy.”
“I can’t stop it.” Her body shuddered in my grasp.
“All those preppy fucks at Harvard will know you are my woman. Do I make myself fucking clear?”
“Baby, yes.”
Holding her limp, orgasm riddled body in my hands, I plunged into her drenched pussy. “No more fucking bullshit, Vicky. You’re my woman and that is fucking final,” I roared as I came inside her juicy fucking cunt.
She needed to pay.
I desired her.
Craved her.
She was my fucking undoing. And she knew it. Yes, I understand she said we were together now. But Vicky was slick. She’d try to keep us a secret to the entire world. I wasn’t having that shit.
Knock, knock.
I slid out of her pussy that was still milking the cum from my balls. I placed my cock back inside my pants.
“One minute,” I yelled.
Carrying Vicky into the bedroom, I kissed her lips, and laid her on the bed. I jogged to the door.
The room service attendant rolled the cart inside. His eyes darted toward the broken lamp.
I grinned. “Don’t worry we’ll pay for the damages. Thank you for bringing our meal. I placed a one-hundred-dollar bill in his palm.
“My pleasure. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call.”
I nodded, and he disappeared out the door.
“Time to eat, Vicky.” I rolled the cart into the bedroom next to the corner table. The herb chicken smelled delicious. I’d eat later.
She strolled out of the bathroom toward the table. “Thank you.” Concern loomed her face.
I called the concierge and ordered two pair of jeans and two solid button-down shirts from the luxury clothing shop in the lobby. I requested they knock once, enter, and leave the clothes on the side table next to the door.
Leaving Vicky wasn’t an option. She was fragile. A hot shower was what I needed. I walked into the bathroom and discarded my clothes, before stepping into the large shower. Six shower heads unleashed scolding hot water against my sore muscles.
Football season was over, but I still had to maintain my weight, ensuring I was ready for next season. I trained every other day. I was finally settling into my classes in the second semester.
Turning my face to the ceiling, the water soaked my hair. A gush of cold air swept my body as the door opened. My eyes opened, landing on Vicky. Her head hung low.
“What’s wrong?”
