Chapter 213
Chapter 213
Claire's POV
I could barely catch my breath as waves of tingling heat surged through me, making my whole body go limp. “Mmm—ahh!” My head tilted back against the sofa, every nerve buzzing like I’d been hit with a live wire. Daniel’s presence was overwhelming, his scent—a mix of whiskey and raw, musky sweat—filling my senses. The dim light of the living room cast shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp edge of his jaw as he hovered over me.
Taking advantage of the slickness between my thighs, Daniel slid two fingers inside me. My tight walls clamped around him instantly, pulling him in deeper. I arched off the cushion with a gasp, a wild moan escaping my lips. His eyes locked on mine, dark and intense, like he was studying every twitch of my face. I saw something dangerous flicker in his gaze, a kind of restless hunger that made my chest tighten. Without warning, his free hand yanked at my shirt collar, fabric ripping as he exposed my skin. He gripped one of my breasts, kneading it roughly, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak.
His fingers felt the dampness of my sweat, my skin clinging to his palm like it was begging for more. Then, just as suddenly, he pulled his fingers out of me, leaving me aching and empty. My entrance was still open, quivering, when he gripped the thick head of his cock and pushed it against me, sliding in slow and deliberate. My breath hitched at the stretch, the heat of him filling me.
“Claire, I wanna go hard tonight,” he growled through gritted teeth, almost like he was asking for permission. His thumb found my swollen clit, pressing down and rubbing in tight, vibrating circles that sent jolts through my core.
“Mmm…” I shut my eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation of his cock inching deeper, a controlled invasion that made my inner walls spasm and grip him tighter. The way he moved, so deliberate yet on the edge of losing it, drove me wild. So this was Daniel drunk—raw, unfiltered, and hungry in a way I hadn’t seen before.
I propped myself up on shaky elbows, reaching down to cup his balls, massaging them gently. “Ahh… ahh… Daniel, baby, what’s gotten into you? Drunk and acting crazy on your own wife.” My voice trembled with a mix of tease and need, each word punctuated by a gasp as he thrust deeper.
The phrase “own wife” hit him like a spark to gasoline. His hands clamped onto my hips, fingers digging into my flesh, and he let go of all restraint, pounding into me with a ferocity that stole my breath. Pleasure crashed over me in brutal waves, and I couldn’t hold back the loud cries spilling out. “Ahh! Ahh! Slow down… it’s too fast…” My body shook, every thrust making my thighs quiver uncontrollably.
The more I pleaded, the harder he went, like my words fueled him. The intensity built until I couldn’t take it anymore—a gush of hot liquid rushed out of me, soaking his groin as I lost control completely. Amidst the slick mess, he seemed possessed, trying to push his fingers in alongside his cock, his nails scraping at my overstretched entrance. He attempted it a few times, frustration evident in his grunts, but couldn’t manage.
“Daniel!” I gasped, my voice ragged, sounding like I might break. I tugged his head down, my lips finding his throat, biting gently at his Adam’s apple with a tenderness I didn’t know I had left in me.
He tilted his head back with a rough exhale, shuddering under my touch, momentarily distracted from his wild urge. His focus shifted, hips driving into me with heavy, deliberate thrusts, sweat dripping from his forehead and splattering onto my chest. The sheer force of him was relentless, each movement shaking the sofa beneath us.
Under this assault, I came again, hard and fast, my cries echoing in the quiet apartment. Daniel lifted me effortlessly, pulling me onto his lap. My pussy swallowed every inch of him, right down to the thick base, my drenched folds kissing his balls as I ground against him. Our bodies locked together so perfectly, no space left between us, just the wet heat of our connection. As he released inside me, the hot rush of his cum spilled out from where we joined, dripping down my thighs.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that, tangled and breathless. Eventually, I came back to myself, slumping against his shoulder, panting weakly. “Daniel… maybe don’t drink so much next time…” My voice was barely a whisper, exhaustion weighing down every word.
He fought to steady his own scorching breaths, leaning in to kiss my swollen lips, his touch softer now. “Not just drunk nonsense,” he murmured against my mouth, his tone raw.
I scoffed lightly, still catching air. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”
I let out a small laugh, closing my eyes as I tightened around him, my hips squeezing his still-hard cock. He groaned softly, caught off guard, and I leaned in, my lips grazing his ear as I whispered hotly, “Guess I was wrong. My husband’s so big… ahh…” My words dripped with tease, daring him to react.
His temple pulsed, a sharp twitch of tension, and his hands gripped my cum-slicked hips, lifting me slightly. Without another word, he started moving again, thrusting up with renewed hunger, and I knew we weren’t done—not by a long shot. Inside, my heart raced with a mix of thrill and vulnerability. I’d pushed him, and now I’d feel every bit of what that meant. But as his rhythm built, all I could focus on was the heat of him, the weight of his hands, and the way my body answered every move he made.
THE END.