Page 32 of It Must Be Fate

His lips find mine and swallow the moan that rips from my throat when he pushes two fingers inside me. I feel his body shudder against mine, overcome by the sensations of feeling my pussy.

“Do you know my favorite thing to call you these days?” he whispers against the shell of my ear, his fingers moving deftly in and out of me.

I shake my head and he bites my earlobe.

“Guess,” he orders.

“Nera?”

“No.”

“Baby?” I ask breathlessly, my eyes squeezed shut.

“No.”

His fingers drive inside me with determined, possessive thrusts until I feel like I’m losing my mind.

“Wife?”

“Always. But no.”

“I don’t know,” I pant, quickly approaching my release. “Tell me.”

Tristan’s heated breaths hit the side of my face as he stares down at me, taking in the way my features are screwed in pleasure. My fingers dig into his shoulders as I hold on for dear life.

And then he lowers his face until his lips brush against mine and our breaths merge into one.

“Mother of my children,” he reveals.

Oh,fuck.

“You're all I talk about at the restaurants. I used to say “my wife” or “Nera”, but now I find myself saying “the mother of mykids”. “She’s the mother of my kids”, “wait until you meet the mother of my kids”,” he lists. “I can’t help myself. The more I say it, the more I want to say it. The more kids I want to put inside you so that when people inevitably follow up with asking how many children we have, I can say the most exorbitant number imaginable and it’ll be true.”

I come with a shocked cry, almost blinded by the wave of pleasure that crashes through me at his heated, possessive words.

“You like that, baby?” Tristan questions with a smirk.

He shoves off my shorts and spreads my legs, positioning himself between them. Then, with his eyes on mine and his hands on my hip and splayed beside my head, he drives inside me with one thrust to the hilt, not giving me any time to adjust.

My back arches off the bed at the impossible stretch but his hand cuffs my throat to keep me pinned to the mattress.

“That’s a good little wife,” he purrs. “Your cunt is so wet for me, baby. You’re clenching me so tightly, it’s a wonder I didn’t come the moment I slid inside you.”

His thrusts are savage and unrelenting. He pounds into me until stars explode behind my eyes and I come with a full-throated scream that rips at my vocal cords. My muscles clamp down around Tristan’s cock and then he’s coming moments after me, roaring my name loudly, his seed shooting into my sore pussy.

Tristan slumps over me, trapping my body with his. His weight is reassuring, his heartbeat comforting against my own as he holds me. My arms come around him and I drag my nails up and down his back in a gentle caress, just the way I know he likes it. He rumbles appreciatively, pressing a kiss to the area right behind my ear.

“Go to sleep, baby.”

He seems to be forgetting something.

“Are you going to stay like that?” I tease.

Tristan shifts slightly so that his still hard cock twitches inside me.

“Mhmm,” he mumbles, already half asleep. “I’m keeping every single drop of my cum inside you. I take my “practices” seriously, I learned that from your best friend’s husband.”

I frown. “You mean, Rh–”

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