Page 164 of Desperate Crimes

No condom.

I’m bare inside her.It’s amazing, but not enough.

With nothing but her hot, silken heat wrapping around me and claiming me in the most primal, possessive way possible, I know I need more.

I need her to bear my children.

Because the thought of filling her up with my cum?

Of flooding her womb with my seed until it takes, until she’s mine in every way a woman can be?

It undoes me.

My balls ache.

My spine locks.

My vision narrows to nothing but her flushed, wild expression as she rides me faster, more desperately, like she needs this as badly as I do.

“Come for me, Wife,” I rasp, my voice dark and commanding.“Show me what I mean to you.”

Her cry is guttural.Raw.Holy.

“Nico—oh God, Nico!”

Her eyes flutter closed, her head thrown back as her orgasm crashes through her like a storm breaking against the cliffs.

And I lose it.

The last sliver of control I had shatters.

I flex my hips and fuck up into her, watching her fall apart as my own climax tears through me like lightning made flesh.

I come hard.

Flooding her.

Filling her.

Branding her from the inside out with every desperate pulse of cum that spills deep into her womb.

There’s so much—too much—and it leaks out of her in hot, sticky streams.

But I’m not done.

I push it back in with my fingers, with my cock, murmuring against her skin like a prayer, “Keep it in there, Princess.Suck it from my body.Keep it all until it takes.”

And she moans.

God, how she moans—like she was born to take everything I give her.

I keep moving, even as we’re both shaking and slick with sweat.

Even as our mouths open and our hearts thunder.

Even as the world melts down to just this bed, just this room, just us.

Our eyes lock, and I kiss her—tongue licking into her mouth, desperate to taste every inch of her, to feel her breath become mine.