The white cage

Chapter 44 : You're mine

"Oh no, no, dear," he warns. "I'll not let the night end without me fucking my pretty wife."

She glares at him over her shoulder, "Old habits die hard, Mr.President... Always taking what you couldn't earn for yourself."

His jaw tightens and his eyes darken. Then he lunges forward, bending over her and snaking an arm around her waist to sharply tug her up against his chest.

Bringing his mouth next to her ear, he snarls out, "I can't possibly take," quickly pulling himself out of his trousers and positioning himself at her entrance "something that so willingly comes to me, Melania"

He slams into her without further warning and a breathy gasp escapes her lips.

He wastes no time setting a brutal pace, her thighs hitting painfully into the side of the bed with each thrust, and a hand tangles in her hair, tugging lightly, while the other grips fiercely into her hip.

" Melania," he rasps out and she shudders as he hits deeper and deeper with every buck of his hips. "So good... So wet for me... just like you always are, aren't you my darling?"

He isn't wrong. She can feel herself absolutely dripping down her thighs, but she can barely catch her breath, her hands fisted tight into the bedding as he furiously pounds into her. So it surprises even her when she manages a strangled, " Donald... "

The hand in her hair comes to wrap around her shoulders and loosely grip her throat. Applying a small bit of pressure, he leans in, " That's it precious, say my name. Just like all the times you called on me before you betrayed me with that jerk..."

She wants to ask what he could possibly mean by that, but then his hand on her hip dips between her legs and she cries out as he begins rubbing firmly over the sensitive bud that's currently swollen with an unbidden desire - and her mind goes insane. Her body begins to feel that all too familiar buzz across her skin and it's then that her husband slows his pace.

His breathing is fast enough to rival hers, but as he grinds himself into her, slowly working his hand between her legs, he whispers to her, " Who did you always come running to, love? Even when I had my fun with others women... you always came to me, didn't you? "

She lets out a shivering breath, turning her head to look at him, her eyes flickering between challenging and pleading as he moves in her.

" Spread out on our bed like a common whore while I fucked you, " he kisses her neck, " all the times you were on those pretty knees for me, " her eyes close and his pace quickens, " and all the nights you begged me to fill this sweet little cunt with my come."

She lets herself feel him, leans into his touch, arching her back towards his steadying rhythm.

" You've always belonged to me, darling," he tilts her face to his,
" You've always been mine, Melania mine. "

" Donald, " she breathes and he kisses her hard, his hand furiously circling her clit and driving into her with absolute abandon.

She's not even trying to restrain her moans anymore and when his cock hits a particularly sensitive spot, she practically screams. " Oh god, Donald there, right there, fuck me, please, fuck. "

She feels her release coil tight in her belly and the pressure of his fingers makes her legs start to shake. " That's it, " he hisses through gritted teeth, pounding into her faster, harder, " Yes, that's it. Come for me, wife. "

She lets out a cry and wrings her hand tight into the bedding as her orgasm violently washes over her. She can hear herself - loud and wanton, and when he whispers a rather pleased "good girl" against her neck, she can't stop a high whimper from escaping her lips. There's a part of her that curses herself for giving him the satisfaction, but god knows... if he didn't know exactly how to turn her into such a quivering wreck.