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He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to the edge. My fingers splay out on his shoulders and then I am kissing him again because I love it. I love how his tongue toys with mine and how he nibbles on my lips, letting me know who’s in control.

And he is, because I completely let go and I still feel powerful as fuck. He makes me feel it with the way he worships my body, the way his hands are all over my breasts, my waist, and my thighs as if he can never get enough of me.

He makes me feel powerful by wanting me with a ferociousness that turns him animalistic, and I get off on that.

I get off on how he wants me, not caring about the consequences or what the world thinks of us.

While he’s still kissing me, he frees his cock and lifts me slightly off the table so he can drive inside me.

“Oh, God,” I mumble against his lips, my eyelids slowly closing.

“No. Look at me while I fuck you, wife.”

I open my eyes and our gazes lock as he thrusts into me slow and long and deep. So deep that h