Chapter 10: Repossession
The click of the door latch reverberated in Mark’s skull like a gong. Silence, thick and cloying, descended, broken only by Sarah’s shallow breaths and the frantic drumming of his own heart against his ribs. The scent – Alex’s musky perfume, Sarah’s arousal, the salty tang of sweat, the faint jasmine – wrapped around him, intoxicating, maddening. His eyes snapped from the closed door back to his wife.
She still sat huddled on the rug, naked, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them. Sweat glistened on her skin, catching the low, late-afternoon sun. Her short brown hair was a messy halo. Between her parted thighs, the evidence was stark: her pussy was swollen, glistening wet, still visibly open and flushed, a thin stream of white fluid – Alex’s come – trickling onto the weave of the rug. The sight sent a jolt of pure, possessive fury and blinding lust straight to Mark’s groin. His cock strained against his trousers, hard as iron, demanding.
He didn’t think. Didn’t speak. Action was the only language his body understood right now. He crossed the space in three long strides. Before Sarah could react, before she could even fully look up, he was on her. His hands clamped down on her bare shoulders – not gently. He hauled her upright. Her eyes flew wide, startled, then instantly darkened with a heat that mirrored his own. He spun her, slamming her back against the cool plaster wall near the balcony doors. The impact made a soft thud. A startled gasp escaped her lips, but no protest. Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Mark—” she started, her voice thick.
He silenced her with a look, his eyes burning into hers. His fingers fumbled with his belt, his fly, urgency making him clumsy. The zipper rasped down. He shoved trousers and briefs roughly past his hips. His cock sprang free, thick, rigid, the angry red head already weeping pre-come. He saw her gaze drop, watched her tongue flick out to wet her lips. She was still wet, so fucking wet from Alex, slick and open. The primal part of his brain roared. Mine.
He didn’t tease. Didn’t prepare her. She didn’t need it. He hooked one hand under her knee, lifting her leg high and hitching it around his hip. His other hand guided the swollen head of his cock through the copious wetness coating her folds, finding her entrance easily – loosened, welcoming. With a guttural groan torn from deep in his chest, he drove himself into her with one brutal, claiming thrust.
“FUCK!” Sarah cried out, her head snapping back against the wall, her body arching. Her slick, stretched cunt enveloped him, hot and impossibly tight despite Alex’s recent invasion. The sensation was electric, overwhelming. Wet heat clenched around him, pulsing. He could feel it, the residual stretch, the different texture, and it only fueled the fire.
He withdrew almost to the tip, then slammed home again. Harder. The impact rocked her body against the wall. Her small breasts jiggled with the force. “Oh God! Mark! YES!” Her cry wasn’t pain. It was pure, unadulterated ecstasy. Her hands scrabbled at his shoulders, his back, nails digging in, pulling him closer, deeper.
He fucked her like a man possessed. Short, savage thrusts. Deep. Relentless. The wet, rhythmic slap of his hips against her ass, against her splayed-open sex, filled the quiet apartment, louder than any words. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the mingled scents of her skin, her sweat, Alex’s scent on her. “You like that?” he growled against her damp skin, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. “You like me fucking you right after her?” He emphasized the word, driving it home with his cock.
“Yes!” she gasped, her voice cracking on a moan. “Fuck, yes! Harder! Don’t stop!” Her body writhed against him, meeting his thrusts, grinding her clit against the base of his shaft. “Feels… feels so fucking good, Mark! So deep!” Her eyes were squeezed shut, her face a mask of intense pleasure. “Take me! Fuck your wife! Claim me!”
Her words, raw and filthy, acknowledging the possession, sent another surge of lust through him. He pistoned into her, the angle allowing him to hit depths that made her shriek. She was soaked, dripping down her inner thighs, coating his balls. Her inner muscles fluttered and clenched around his invading length, a rapid, involuntary spasm.
“You gonna come?” he demanded, pounding into her, his own climax coiling low and urgent. “You gonna come on my cock, Sarah? Now? After taking that… that fucking monster?” The image of Alex’s thick shaft plunging into this same wet heat flashed behind his eyes, making his balls tighten.
“Yes! Oh God, yes! I’m coming! Fuck!” Sarah’s cry was ragged, primal. Her body locked, rigid against the wall. Her cunt convulsed violently around his cock, a series of powerful, sucking contractions that milked him, pulling him deeper still. Her juices gushed, hot and slick, flooding the space between them. She gasped, her head lolling, a shuddering moan tearing free as the waves crashed over her.
Feeling her climax triggered his own. The tight, pulsating grip of her orgasm, the visual of her wrecked expression, the scent of sex and conquest – it detonated the tension in his groin. With a roar that felt ripped from his soul, Mark drove himself as deep as he could go and erupted. Hot pulses of semen jetted into her depths, thick and urgent, spilling into the wetness Alex had left behind. He ground his hips against her, emptying himself with shuddering gasps, holding her pinned to the wall as he filled her.
His thrusts slowed to shallow grinds, then stilled. He leaned his forehead against the wall beside her head, breathing raggedly. The only sounds were their harsh panting and the wet drip of combined fluids onto the floor. The fading sunlight striped their bodies.
Sarah slowly opened her eyes. They were heavy-lidded, sated, but held a fierce, bright spark. She traced a fingertip down his sweat-slicked cheek. “Wow,” she murmured, her voice husky, wrecked, but filled with warmth. A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face. “That was fucking incredible. You felt amazing. So powerful… so fucking possessive.” She wriggled slightly against him, still impaled. “I love it.”
Mark lifted his head, meeting her gaze. He saw the raw honesty there, the arousal, the pleasure, the lack of regret. He pulled out slowly, a thick strand of creamy white fluid – his own – mixed with her release and Alex’s, connecting them for a moment before snapping. Sarah hissed softly at the sensation, her legs trembling as he lowered her foot to the floor. She leaned heavily against the wall, her chest heaving, her pussy glistening, gaped, and utterly spent. She looked utterly debauched, utterly his.
He stepped back, his own legs unsteady. He looked down at the mess on the floor, then back at his wife, naked against the wall, wearing the evidence of both encounters. His mind was a storm of conflicting emotions – residual fury, overwhelming desire, confusion, a strange sense of triumph. He’d taken her. Hard. Savagely. And she’d loved it. Craved it. Praised him for it.
Sarah pushed herself off the wall, swaying slightly. She stepped close to him, ignoring the sticky mess on her thighs. She placed a soft, lingering kiss on his lips, tasting of sex and sweat. “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes searching his, filled with a complex mix of affection, desire, and something else… something challenging. “That was exactly what I needed.”