Hawthorne

Epilogue

Vincent Hawthorne

Heaven.

That's precisely where I'm at. Even with all of the protocols and formalities, there's nowhere else I'd rather be—balls deep inside my wife.

"Oh god," she moans loudly. 

"No God can save you little Milla," I husk, slowly thrusting forward. "It's my name I want to hear."

"Vincent," she whines, her hands tugging at the silk ribbons that keep her restrained. 

What a fucking sight. 

Her fair skin contrasts with the deep red from the ribbons that tug at her wrists and ankles while her straight dark brown hair cascades down her chest, over her breasts. With every squirming movement, it moves and tickles her taut nipples. 

These soft legs spread wide open just for me as her dripping cunt swallows all of me. Warm and wet. Exhilarating. All of the swells of her body get me drunk on pleasure, the old and rhe new ones. And while I love her in every way and shape, like this, bound and surrendering to me, is my favourite.

Who would have thought that the Queen of a country, to whom no one dares speak back, submits to me this easily? And that begs for more on top of that?

"Vincent," she grits out, annoyed at my slow movements.

She's trying to get this over and done with... Pointless---and she should know by now.

It's been roughly around two hours and I have purposely kept her in here today. It's her birthday and little miss here thought she'd still get to work. Not on my watch. Those leeches of politicians get to take her away from me almost every day of the year. 

Not today.

"Patience, baby," I taunt her with a smug smirk. "You feel so good around me. Let me feel you."

With a roll of my hips, I feel that swollen wall of hers, hitting my target. "Oh!"

"That's it," I coo. "Now, squeeze my cock, little Milla."

A firecracker outside of these four walls. She has grown to be one of the most impetuous women I have ever known. Always brutally honest. Confident and to the point. She earned the respect and loyalty of everyone in the government---and mine too.  Even though she's always had it.

But inside our bedroom, she gives away all of the control to me. And I thrive on it.

She can rule the world for all I care, for as long as I have this. Her. I need nothing else.

"What would the world think if they knew?" I whisper before tilting her hips up, to change the angle and drive in deeper. Slowly. "If they knew that their almighty and gracious Queen submits this easily to me?"

Fuck.

My hips jerk on their own, slamming into her. I always lose control when it comes to her.

"Yes," she cries out when my rhythm quickens. "Faster! Harder!"

A shiver travels down my spine warning me of what's to come. White spots cloud my vision, turning Camilla's body into a light blur of stars and delight.

"Give it to me," I demand, speeding up a notch.

Lost in an ocean of sensations and found in a sky of blissfulness, we surrender ourselves to the victory of pleasure. It's fast. Hard and intense. Searing through our bodies into our souls, weaving us together for life.

My wife. My Queen. My life.

"I--"

With one hand squeezing her waist and the other firmly gripping her thigh, I relish in the way her muscles tense underneath my touch. Watching as her back arches and her head falls back with her pussy clamping down on me.