25. Penn

Chapter 25

Penn

“ D ie, you son of a bitch!”

My voice cuts through the living room, mingling with the furious clicking of buttons. I’m leaning forward, elbows on my knees, eyes glued to the screen as my character delivers a brutal blow to Lincoln’s. He swears loudly, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“That’s another one for me,” I say, my tone dripping with smug satisfaction. “You guys really should try to keep up. I’ve gotta carry everything for the Blackwood name.”

“Fuck off, Penn,” Lincoln snaps back, his dark eyes burning with irritation. He’s always been impulsive, quick to anger when he’s losing. Makes it all the more fun to mess with him.

“I’m sorry. Let me stand corrected. You carry us for banging sisters and you…” My eyes swing to Jere, “You carry us in banging my old best friend’s little sister category. My apologies for not acknowledging what you bring to the table.”

“Yeah, sometimes I hope you break your jaw, and it needs to be wired shut so we don’t have to listen to you for a few months,” Jeremiah chimes in, his voice quiet but laced with sarcasm. “Maybe if you spent less time running your mouth and more time actually playing, you’d be half as good as you think you are.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Jerry,” I retort, flashing a sly grin. “But keep it coming. Just means I’m in your head.”

The sound of laughter drifts up from downstairs, a light, airy contrast to our game night. I can just make out Reagan’s voice, deeper and more resonant than the others. She’s teaching Iris and Oakley how to make drinks, probably something fancy and complicated. All I know is the girls have been asking for bartending stories and my wife is all too happy to spill the tea on all the weird shit she saw from that asbestos-filled dump she used to call her place of work.

“You think they’re gonna make us something fruity?” Lincoln asks, glancing toward the stairs.

“Not likely. We aren’t getting shit from the girls’ night,” Jeremiah says without looking away from the screen. “Reagan’s too busy being the queen bee down there. I swear she’s got a personality that if I didn’t know better is straight from the Blackwood bloodline.”

“Queen bee, I like that. A Blackwood queen,” I muse under my breath.

“What’s that, Penn?” Lincoln asks, raising an eyebrow. He loves to poke the bear; see how far he can push before I snap.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” I reply, my voice casual, dismissive. “Just focus on not getting your ass handed to you again.”

“Big talk for someone who’s barely keeping ahead,” Jeremiah says with a smirk. He can’t hide the rush of competition that always gets us caught up.

“Keep telling yourself that,” I say, settling back into the couch. My fingers move deftly over the controller, every movement calculated, every attack precise.

“Fuck you, Penn,” he retorts, though there’s no real heat behind it. Just the usual brotherly bullshit.

“Love you too, bro,” I say with a wink, then turn my attention back to the game. “Dammit, Lincoln! How the hell did you pull off that headshot?” I mutter, shaking my controller in disbelief. The screen flashes with “GAME OVER” and Lincoln’s smug face is all I can see.

“Skill, bro. Something you clearly lack,” Lincoln says, his eyes never leaving the screen as he readies for another round.

“Yeah, yeah, keep talking. We’ll see who’s laughing when I wipe the floor with you next round.”

“Speaking of something lacking,” Jeremiah cuts in, setting his controller down for a moment. “Anyone else feel weird without Graham around? The place feels…different.”

Different is putting it mildly. The house feels like it’s missing its perpetual storm cloud. Graham’s grumpiness always added an energy to our chaotic group, like the final ingredient in a Molotov cocktail.

“Can’t say I miss his endless bitching,” I reply, though deep down, the absence gnaws at me. It’s like losing the punchline to an inside joke only we get.

“True,” Lincoln agrees, lips curling into a grin. “But admit it, the asshole has his charm. Like a grumpy cat that occasionally decides to show affection by scratching your face.”

“Yeah…” I trail off. We feel the void as our brother lays up there in the fucking hospital. It makes my skin feel itchy and like the only way to fix this is to kill someone. Specifically, the someone who’s fault this fucking is. My murderous thoughts are cut off by Lincoln’s smug ass voice cutting in.

“Anyway,” Lincoln shifts gears, trying to lighten the mood. “ What the hell were you and Reagan up to when you came home last night? Sounded like the place was being torn apart.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I shoot back.

“Spit it out already, Penn,” Lincoln says, his impatience seeping through. “What the hell were you two doing? Sounded like you were setting off fireworks in the damn house with all the fucking laughter.”

“None of your fucking business,” I snap, fingers gripping the controller tighter. I don’t owe him or anyone else an explanation.

“Typical,” Jeremiah mutters, his eyes glued to the screen but his voice cutting through the air. “Any time there’s chaos or commotion, it’s usually got your name written all over it. So yeah, it is our business.”

“Jeremiah, always the concerned brother,” I retort, the sarcasm dripping from my words. “And it was nothing.”

“Yeah, well, when your shit becomes our shit, it kinda makes it our concern,” he counters, glancing at me briefly.

“Trust isn’t exactly your strong suit,” Lincoln quips, his lips curling into a half-smile. “But alright, we’ll drop it—for now.”

“Goddamn right,” I say with a sly grin, leaning back and savoring the moment. “You guys would be bored out of your fucking minds without me. I’m like a fireworks show—bright, explosive, and totally unpredictable.”

“More like a dumpster fire,” Jeremiah retorts, not missing a beat. “Bright, explosive, and leaving everyone around you scrambling for cover.”

“Hey, a fire’s a fire,” I shoot back, my fingers dancing over the controller. “And any time I get to play with it makes me a very happy Penn. ”

“You’re a constant fucking headache,” Lincoln says, shaking his head.

“Then take an aspirin and shut up,” I laugh, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline that comes with these verbal sparring matches.

“Seriously though,” Jeremiah says, his tone softening just a touch. “You push boundaries like it’s a hobby. One day, you’re gonna push too far.”

“Yeah, well, until then,” I smirk, eyes locked onto the screen as I land a perfect headshot, “might as well enjoy the ride.”

“Enjoy the ride? Is that what you call dragging Reagan into your messes?” Lincoln challenges, his green eyes narrowing.

“Reagan can handle herself,” I say, a hint of pride creeping into my voice. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

“Or maybe she’s just as crazy as you,” Jeremiah suggests, eyebrows raised.

“Could be,” I acknowledge, the thought of Reagan sending a thrill through me. “Maybe that’s why we’re such a damn good match.”

“Still can’t believe you fucking married her,” Lincoln mutters, but there’s no real bite in his words.

“Yes, the fuck I did marry her,” I retort, hitting pause on the game to give Lincoln a cocky grin. “And look at how my plan worked out. Because all my fucking plans work out, no matter how crazy you think they are. I’ve been telling you to put some damn respect on my name.”

No one ever believes the magician until he pulls the rabbit from the hat—and then everyone wants tickets to the next show.

I slam my controller onto the coffee table, standing up and stretching. The sharp pain in my shoulders reminds me that I’ve been sitting too long.

“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you. It was just a little murder,” I say, eyes looking between the two of them, waiting for them to process. The words slipped out casually, like I’m discussing the weather or the pizza we had last week.

“Wait, what?” Lincoln’s voice cuts through as he pauses the game.

“Seriously, Penn?” Jeremiah groans, rubbing his temples as if he could massage away the headache I’m undoubtedly giving him. “You can’t just drop shit like that and expect us to go back to playing. Why are we randomly murdering people in the middle of the week?”

“Why not?” I flash them a grin, enjoying their reactions. “It’s not like it’s the first time.”

“Yeah, but Reagan?” Lincoln shoots back, frustration coloring his tone. “You’re dragging her into your mayhem now? Wasn’t the whole point of marrying her to keep her the fuck quiet about what she saw?”

“Reagan? Oh please, she’s as much into it as I am,” I counter. “You think she’s some innocent bystander? Nah, she’s got a taste for violence. Fits right in. I mean sure, that’s why I married her until I found out we can do a little his-and-hers masked killer roleplay…in and out of the bedroom, if you know what I mean.”

“Two masked heathens causing distress,” Jeremiah mutters, shaking his head. “Great, that’s exactly what this family needs.”

“Hey, you should be thanking me,” I retort, leaning back into the couch. “Life would be boring without a little murder here and there.”

“Thanking you?” Lincoln scoffs, his dark eyes flashing with barely contained irritation. “You’re gonna get us all killed one day, you know that?”

“Maybe, but at least we can go together, am I right? And honestly, only someone into a little murder could put up with me,” I declare, my grin widening. “Reagan’s perfect for this mess. Honestly, I’ve hit the wife lottery.”

Jeremiah rolls his eyes so hard I think they might pop out of his skull. “The wife lottery? Really, Penn?”

“Yeah, really,” I shoot back, not missing a beat. “You know why? Because someone with a taste for havoc would stick around. She’s got that edge, that...fire.”

“More like you’re both playing with fire,” Lincoln mutters, shaking his head.

“Exactly,” I say, leaning forward, elbows on my knees. “And you know I love playing with fucking fire.” I put my arms behind me and lock fingers, stretching until I hear my back crack. “I’m gonna steal her away from the girls downstairs.”

“Can’t go a few hours without her, huh?” Jeremiah teases.

“Nope,” I reply, heading for the stairs.

I reach the bottom of the stairs, and the sound of Reagan’s laughter hits me like a drug. It’s raw and unfiltered, just like her. I push open the door to the lounge and there she is, teaching Iris and Oakley how to make some kind of green drink. Her eyes catch mine, and I smirk, letting my eyes roam up and down her body. She’s in shorts and one of my football shirts she cut up to all hell and fuck me where did she get those tall ass socks. She looks like my wife but also like some kind of demented cheerleader. Thank you, little eight-pound baby Jesus, for this gift. Or baby Satan. I don’t care which one of you sent this to me.

“Hey ladies,” I say, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Mind if I steal Reagan for a bit? ”

“Penn, we’re in the middle of something,” Oakley protests, but her tone is playful as Reagan walks toward me.

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to be in the middle of something also,” I retort, my gaze locked on Reagan. “I mean, if you all want to watch, be my guess, but the two assholes upstairs are going to be heartbroken when you confirm I have the biggest Blackwo….”

“Penn!” Reagan yells, rolling her eyes as she slaps a hand across my mouth. “You fucking troublemaker.”

I grin against her palm, feeling the warmth of her touch and the roughness of her words seep into my bones. “Guilty,” I murmur, my voice muffled, so I lick her soft skin. She pulls her hand away with a scoff, amusement in her eyes.

“You are guilty of a lot of shit,” Reagan mutters, turning on her heel and striding back toward the makeshift bar in the corner of the room. Her tall socks hug her legs just right, and I can’t help but appreciate the sight as she moves.

I follow her, a smirk playing on my lips. Iris and Oakley exchange knowing looks before slipping upstairs, leaving us alone.

Reagan stands behind the bar, hands gripping the edge as she faces me. “So, what now? Do you want to play Scrabble?” she asks, eyebrow arched.

“Bartend me,” I say, sliding onto a stool in front of her.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” she demands.

“You know, that shit where you sit on the bar and pour alcohol down my throat,” I explain with exaggerated patience. “And then slap me.”

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters under her breath, but there’s a gleam in her eyes that tells me she gets off on this as much as I do .

I lean back, stretching my arms along the back of the stool. “Come on, baby,” I coax. “Do it for your loving husband.”

Reagan rolls her eyes again but reaches for a bottle of whiskey. I watch as she climbs onto the bar with graceful ease. She straddles it, before her leg swings over with practiced recklessness until she’s right there.

Her shorts aren’t even obscenely short, but her sweet cunt is right in front of me and now all I want to do is to suck her clit into my mouth through the cotton.

Reagan grips my chin, dragging my eyes away from her center until I’m looking at her and she shakes her head.

“Be my good boy and open up.”

I open my mouth like an obedient disciple waiting for his holy communion. The whiskey flows in a stream from the bottle into my throat, burning and exhilarating all at once. Her eyes never leave mine as she pours.

“Fuck,” I croak after a moment, swallowing hard against the burn.

She sets the bottle down beside her and looks at me. “And now what?” she asks again.

“The slap,” I remind her, grinning up at her defiantly.

She raises her hand and brings it down across my cheek with surprising force.

The sting is sharp and immediate, but instead of pain, there’s a rush of adrenaline that courses through me. My grin widens as I reach up to touch my reddened cheek. “Fuck yes, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Her smirk is a wicked curve of lips, promising delightful torment. But I’m done with playing the obedient pet. It’s time to indulge in another fantasy that’s been lurking just beneath my skin.

My hands slide down to yank at the tie of her shorts. She doesn’t resist; instead, she lifts her hips slightly, as if daring me to do it.

I pull the cotton down and over her legs in one swift motion and then freeze. No panties. A growl rumbles from deep within my chest as I drink in the sight of her bare skin, glistening slightly in the overhead lights of the bar.

“Goddamn,” I murmur, more to myself than to her.

My hands move with deliberate slowness up her thighs, fingers ghosting over the soft curve of her skin until they hook into the neckline of her tank top. With one violent tug, I rip the fabric down, exposing those creamy tits I fucking love. Her hardening nipples stand out like targets begging for attention or punishment. I’m good with both.

Her breath catches just a fraction as I let my gaze roam over every inch of exposed flesh. My hands follow shortly after, palming her breasts with a roughness that makes her moan softly.

“Don’t forget the socks,” she murmurs, catching me off guard.

“Fucking socks stay,” I retort sharply, but with a chuckle. She might have forgotten who’s really in control here. But then...

I grab the bottle of whiskey off the counter and let a thin stream of liquid coat her chest before bending down and licking it up, paying special attention to the liquor on her nipples.

Once satisfied I’ve done my duty as her husband to make sure I got every last drop, I sit back down so me and my pussy can have a fucking conversation.

Pouring more than a stream, I watch as a goddamn amber liquid waterfall coats her mound and runs between her lips before I lean forward and suck at the tender flesh beneath .

Her hand finds purchase in my hair, pulling me closer as I start to suck on her slick folds. Reagan’s hips grind against my mouth rhythmically. Each moan she releases is like fuel to my fire.

I press deeper, feeling her body respond in waves of tension. Her breaths turn into gasps; those gasps into whimpers that only encourage me to devour more of her essence.

I feel her thighs tense around me as she gets closer to release and then they tense even further when I grin into her skin as the bottle I’m still holding creeps in between us, the rim of it slipping between her until it’s circling her needy little hole.

I feel her thighs clench around my head as the cool glass of the whiskey bottle presses against her slick entrance. Reagan gasps sharply, her hips jerking involuntarily at the unexpected intrusion.

“What the fuck, Penn?” she breathes out raggedly, fingers tightening in my hair. “Are you seriously trying to fuck me with a bottle right now?”

I pull back just enough to flash her a wicked grin, lips and chin glistening with her arousal. “What’s the matter, baby? Is this desperate cunt of yours not aching to be filled by something, anything?”

I punctuate my words by tracing teasing circles around her clenching hole with the smooth neck of the bottle, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm.

“I could work this thick glass deep inside this greedy pussy,” I muse, voice a low, filthy rumble. “Get you sopping wet as you cream all over it, stretched out so perfect for me. Then I’d pull it out, lick up every drop of your sweet fucking juice... ”

I lean in, breath hot against her sensitive flesh as I murmur the next words right against her aching clit.

“And slide my dick in hard and fast while you’re still fluttering and shaking. Fuck this cunt ‘til you’re screaming my name. How’s that sound, hmm?”

Reagan lets out a strangled moan, head falling back as I start easing the bottle inside her, inch by excruciating inch. I watch in raw, primal hunger as her slick pink lips stretch obscenely around the glass, swallowing it into her hot, silky depths.

“Oh fuck, oh God Penn...” she whimpers brokenly, back arching as I start thrusting the bottle in slow, deep strokes. Her walls clench greedily, trying to suck it in deeper.

“Yeah, there you go,” I growl in encouragement, angling it to rub against her most sensitive spots. “Taking it so good, so deep in this cock-starved cunt. Gonna make you come so hard you forget your own fucking name.”

I start pumping the bottle faster, twisting it as I plunge it in and out of her dripping pussy. Reagan writhes above me, shameless broken sounds spilling from her lips, hips rolling to meet each penetrating thrust.

“Please, f-fuck, I need...” she gasps out, nails dragging over my scalp. I smirk against her thigh before leaning in to suck her clit between my lips, flicking the tender bud mercilessly with my tongue as I rail into her ruthlessly with the bottle.

“Ah! Mm, don’t stop, r-right there! Fuck, I’m…I’m gonna...”

Her desperate cries echo off the walls as she comes violently, spasming and clenching hard around the glass.

I groan in raw, primal satisfaction as I watch Reagan come undone, her body quivering and clenching in the throes of ecstasy. The sight of her, wrecked and debauched, spread out on the bar like a fucking feast, is almost enough to make me blow my load right then and there.

Almost.

I ease the bottle out of her spasming pussy, watching hungrily as her juices cling to the glass. Bringing it to my lips, I drag my tongue up the smooth surface, moaning at the exquisite taste of her essence.

“Fuck, you taste so goddamn good,” I growl, before wrapping my lips around the neck of the bottle and taking it deep into my throat. I can feel Reagan’s wide eyes on me as I work the glass in and out of my mouth, tongue swirling to lap up every last drop of her sweet cream.

With a lewd pop, I pull the bottle free, letting it drop carelessly to the counter. My hands fly to my shirt, practically ripping it off my body in my haste to feel her skin against mine.

“Need to be inside you,” I rasp out, shoving my sweats down my hips. My cock springs free, hard and throbbing, the tip glistening with pre-cum. “Need to fuck this pussy ‘til you’re screaming.”

Reagan’s answering moan is pure sin as she reaches for me, desperation coloring her movements. I cover her body with mine, pinning her to the bar as I notch my cock at her entrance.

“Beg for it, wife,” I demand, grinding against her soaked folds. The heat of her scorches my skin, making my balls tighten with the need to bury myself deep. “Beg me to fuck you like the filthy little slut you are.”

“Please, Penn,” she whimpers, arching beneath me. Her honey eyes are blown wide with lust, boring into mine. “Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad, need you to fill me up, ruin me.”

“Damn right you’re mine,” I snarl possessively, before slamming into her pussy with one brutal thrust. Her scream of pleasure mingles with my guttural groan as her pussy grips me like a vise, slick walls fluttering around my driving cock.

I set a punishing pace, pistoning my hips and drilling into her relentlessly. The bar shakes beneath us with the force of my thrusts, the wet slap of skin against skin, and our harsh panting filling the room.

“Take it,” I growl, reaching down to circle her clit with rough fingers. Reagan keens, back bowing off the bar as I rub the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Take your husband’s dick like the starving girl you are. This pussy belongs to me, understood?”

I snarl and snap my hips harder; the force pushing her up the bar. Bottles and glasses rattle and topple around us but I don’t give a shit.

My hips slow their punishing pace just enough for me to savor the feel of her, to really revel in how goddamn wet and ready she is for me. How utterly fucking debauched she looks–my goddamn wife. Her slick arousal coats my cock, dripping down to my balls so they’re glistening with it. The sound of her juices squelching obscenely with each thrust is like a filthy symphony to my ears.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” I groan, voice gravelly with lust. “This greedy girl is absolutely drenched, isn’t it? Dripping all over my cock and balls like the desperate little hellfire you are.”

I reach down, gripping the base of my dick as I pull out until just the swollen head is stretching her entrance. Reagan whimpers at the loss, her pussy clenching needily around the tip as if trying to suck me back in.

I grin down at her wickedly, slowly stroking my shaft, watching her eyes glaze over with hunger as she tracks the movement. “Look at this sloppy pussy, trying so hard to keep me inside. It’d do anything to be stuffed full of my cock again, wouldn’t it?”

“God, yes,” Reagan mewls, trying to cant her hips to take me deeper. I tsk at her, free hand pushing her hips back down against the bar.

“Aht aht, stay still like a good little cock sleeve,” I admonish, thumbing her clit just to watch her shudder. “This cunt doesn’t get what it wants until I say so. Sometimes you’re in charge, hellfire. Tonight is not one of those fucking nights.”

I leisurely pump my fist over my length, letting her arousal drip down the rigid length. It’s fucking torture to deny myself the velvet heat of her core, but watching her writhe and pant for it is its own reward.

“Please Penn,” she begs so sweetly, fingernails raking down my chest. “I need it... Need you in me, fucking me.”

“Mm, you beg so pretty,” I croon, continuing my lazy strokes. I’m so hard it’s painful, but I want to make her fall apart, want to ruin her for anyone else’s cock but mine. “Tell me what you are, Reagan. Tell me what this drenched pussy is meant for.”

“It’s yours, meant for you,” she sobs out, pupils blown so wide there’s barely any golden iris left. Her clit is swollen and throbbing against my thumb as I rub tight circles over it.

“Damn right it is,” I snarl in satisfaction. “And right now, this dick wants to utterly wreck your desperate cunt until you’re a screaming, quivering mess.”

I slowly start easing my throbbing cock back into Reagan’s soaked center, savoring the feel of her silky walls gripping me in a chokehold. But I’m not content with just filling her with my dick. I want to stretch this greedy pussy to its absolute limits.

Keeping two fingers pressed along the length of my shaft, I force them into her alongside my dick, groaning at the obscene stretch of her entrance around me. Reagan lets out a broken wail, back arching off the bar as I stuff her full.

“F-fuck! Oh God, Penn... So fucking full,” she sobs, fingers scrabbling at my biceps. I can feel her fluttering wildly, trying to adjust to the overwhelming intrusion.

“That’s it, take it all like a good fucking girl,” I growl, slowly working my fingers in alongside my dick until they’re buried to the knuckle. Her pussy is so fucking tight, clenching greedily around the thick girth splitting her open. “Gonna ruin this pussy, fuck it ‘til it’s molded to the shape of me.”

I pull out achingly slow until just the tip of my dick and fingers are stretching her swollen lips before slamming back in brutally. Reagan screams, head thrashing against the bar as I start up a relentless pace, sawing into her with deep, pounding thrusts.

“Look at this pretty girl, sucking me in so desperately,” I snarl, watching in raw hunger as her pussy swallows me back in again and again, juices gushing out to drench my pistoning cock and fingers. The wet, vulgar sounds of her arousal fill the room, mixing with the sharp slaps of skin against skin and our harsh panting.

“So fucking needy for this, aren’t you?” I curl my fingers inside her, pressing against her g-spot as I grind against her cervix with every driving thrust.

“Please, fuck... Right there! Ah!” Reagan’s moans reach a fever pitch, her thighs starting to quake around my hips. I can feel her pussy bearing down on me, gripping me like a fist.

“That’s it, cum on this dick, baby,” I command harshly, drilling into her at a frenzied pace. I rub tight circles over her throbbing clit, watching as her face contorts in agonized bliss. “Fucking soak my cock, Reagan. Drench me.”

“Oh fuck, I’m…I’m coming!” Reagan throws her head back with a soul-shattering scream, convulsing violently beneath me. Her cunt clamps down on my cock and fingers so hard it’s almost painful, rippling and gushing as she comes apart at the seams. Her pussy gushes and floods my length with her slick cream, absolutely drenching me until rivulets run down my balls.

“Fuck yes, cum for me, hellfire,” I snarl, not letting up my brutal pace even as her body bucks and writhes beneath me. Her eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering as she goes limp, the intensity of her release pulling her under. But I’m not done with her yet, not by a goddamn long shot. I keep drilling into Reagan’s unconscious body, using her like the perfect fucking woman she is. Her pussy is still rippling weakly around me, slick walls sloppily gripping my sawing cock.

“Look at you, passed out on my dick, baby,” I growl, watching her slack face in dark satisfaction. Knowing I fucked her into oblivion, fucked her so good she blacked out from coming, sends a twisted thrill down my spine straight to my balls. “Milk my fucking cock dry. This cunt belongs to me. I’ll use it however I want whenever I want.”

I feel my own release building, tingling at the base of my spine as my cock throbs and pulses inside her ravaged hole. Gripping her hips tight, I slam in to the hilt one last time before exploding, painting her with thick ropes of cum.

“Take it all, fucking take it,” I snarl through gritted teeth as I empty myself inside her, pumping her full of me. Her pussy weakly flutters around me, unconsciously milking my spurting cock for every last drop .

When I’m finally spent, I pull out with a wet squelch, my softening dick slipping free of her abused cunt. I sit back on the stool, admiring my handiwork with a wicked grin. Reagan’s swollen pussy gapes obscenely, inner walls still quivering and twitching. Globs of my thick cum ooze out to run down the crack of her ass, mingling with her slick arousal.

“Now that’s a fucking sight,” I rumble appreciatively, scooping up some of the pearly essence leaking out of her. I push two cum-coated fingers past her slack lips, painting her tongue with our combined releases just as her eyelids start to flutter open.

She moans weakly around my fingers, automatically suckling them clean. Her glazed eyes meet mine as awareness slowly returns. I smirk down at her, pushing my fingers deeper until her gag reflux activates.

“Fuck, I love wrecking this dirty little mouth of yours. Tastes good, doesn’t it? Your cum and mine together.”

Reagan just whimpers in response, too blissed out to form words. I chuckle darkly, pulling my spit-slicked fingers free with a lewd pop. Before she can catch her breath, I’m hauling her limp, pliant body off the bar top and into my lap, crushing her tits against my chest as I pull her in for a brutal kiss.

I plunder her mouth, sucking lewdly on her tongue, chasing the flavor of us. She kisses back lazily, brain still foggy and limbs heavy from the force of her orgasms. I groan into her mouth, one hand fisting in her hair, the other palming the fleshy globe of her ass.

“You’re so fucking pretty. It makes my goddamn chest hurt,” I rasp against her lips, giving her hair a sharp tug.

I reach down, scooping up more of the cum dripping from her swollen folds. Thick rivulets paint her inner thighs mixing with her slick arousal until everything is coated in our depravity.

“Look at the mess you made, hellfire,” I rumble, holding up my coated fingers for her inspection. “This pussy creamed so fucking hard, practically gushed a river all over my cock and balls. Such a filthy girl for your husband, aren’t you?”

She mewls quietly as I maneuver her onto my lap, thighs splayed wide over my own. My cock, still half-hard and sticky with our releases, nestles against her swollen lips. “I could feast on this pretty pussy for hours, suck down every drop of cum and cream until you’re nothing but a shaking, sobbing mess.”

I watch with a smug grin as awareness seeps back into those fucked-out amber eyes. She blinks up at me, a dazed sort of satisfaction on her face that makes my cock twitch against her thigh.

“Thought I lost you there for a minute. Fucked you so good your eyes rolled back in your pretty little head.”

She scoffs weakly, swatting at my chest. “Don’t get too cocky, psycho.”

I bark out a laugh, giving her ass a sharp smack that makes her yelp and glare at me. “Funny, from where I’m sitting, your cunt is still clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled again. This greedy pussy can’t get enough of me pounding it into submission.”

I punctuate my words by rolling my hips, grinding my half-hard cock through the slick mess between us. Reagan bites back a moan, but I can feel her body reacting, a telling shudder rippling through her.

“Goddamn, you’re insatiable,” she breathes, squirming in my lap. The motion makes my shaft slide between her swollen folds, coating me in a fresh wave of arousal. “We just fucked not even five minutes ago and you’re already raring to go again? What are you, the fucking Energizer Bunny of dick?”

“Mm, what can I say? I’ve got the stamina of a goddamn racehorse when it comes to ruining this pussy,” I growl, nipping at her jaw. “And can you blame me?”

“You’re the devil,” Reagan mutters, but she’s arching into my touch as I skim my hands up her sides, cupping the heavy weight of her tits.

“And you’re the goddamn queen of the underworld, hellfire,” I murmur against her skin, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat. She tilts her head back with a quiet moan, baring more of that creamy flesh for my greedy mouth.

“Okay Hades, cum is coating the top of my socks, so at least let me take them off.” I laugh at the absurdity of it. We did fucking make a mess.

“I’m so fucking proud to call you my wife,” I rasp, capturing her lips in a filthy kiss. I tangle my fingers in her wild mane of hair, tugging just hard enough to make her gasp into my mouth. “Never thought I’d find a woman who could keep up with me, match me depravity for depravity. But here you are, taking everything I give you and then turning the tables on me.”

I scoop Reagan’s body up in my arms, holding her close against my chest as I carry her out of the room. Her head lolls against my shoulder, eyes fluttering closed in exhaustion. I can’t help but smirk, feeling a possessive sort of pride at how thoroughly wrecked she is.

My wife, my perfect fucking match in every way.