Diana moaned slightly, feeling his body press into hers. His hand rested on the wall, in front of her face. It was so veiny and strong. Seeing it… seeing it made her feel a certain way.
It showed in her eyes, glowing in fact, with something deeper than lust—complete, unguarded adoration. One that she was trying to fight against.
"What are you doing?" she mumbled.
Dylan smirked, his deep chuckling reverberating in her own chest. "You shouldn't be doing it on your own when I'm here."
She moaned.
He took a handful of her breasts and squeezed softly. She moaned again.
"Dylan…" she said like a plea.
"It's okay. I know you want my cock…"
He poked it at her wet, needy entrance.
"I'll let you have it once again."
Nghhh!!! Ohhhhh!!!
He fucked her. Softer this time like they were a real couple.
As he plunged his cock into her horny cave, he cupped her face, crashing his lips into hers in a slow, deep kiss.
Their tongues danced a perverted dance. Together. It was nasty and slimy but still had a growing Affection that belied the heat building between them.
She moaned into his mouth, her body soft and yielding, her fingers threading through his wet hair as the water cascaded around them, steam curling like a lover's caress.
He pulled her closer, their bodies slick and pressed tight, his hands roaming her curves with reverence. He kissed her again, softer this time, his lips brushing her jaw, her throat, as she sighed, "You're taking me."
"I'm scared I'll get addicted to this."
"There might not be a way back for me after this round."
Her words were a confession, raw and vulnerable, and she was right.
There was no way back for her.
She was Dylan's Bride. His very first one. Forever.
He fucked her hard, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the shower, but each thrust was laced with affection and hunger, his hands cradling her ass, her hips, like she was precious.
She kissed him again, desperate and sloppy, her tongue chasing his as her breasts bounced with each thrust, her moans a symphony of devotion.
"I love your cock, Dylan," she breathed, the words slipping out between kisses. "I really mean it this time."
She looked at him and the honesty in her eyes showed. She seemed so innocent, so cute. She even bit her lip like a naughty girl.
It caused him to fuck her harder, her body trembling as he pounded into her, his cock stretching her perfectly.
He growled softly, pounding faster, his hands sliding up to cup her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks as he drove deeper, hitting that sweet spot that made her see stars.
Her pussy clenched around him, milking his shaft, and she wrapped her legs tighter, pulling him impossibly closer.
"Don't stop! Please," she begged, her voice breaking with emotion, her lips finding his again in a kiss that felt like a vow.
Dylan fucked her relentlessly, not even using any Skill this time, their bodies moving in sync, water splashing around them as the steam thickened, their connection raw and electric.
In the end, they fucked longer than they showered.
After, they stepped out of the shower, bodies glistening, hearts still racing. Toweling off, they shared soft glances, Diana's fingers brushing his arm as she smiled shyly.
The dryer beeped, signaling their clothes were ready a long time ago. Dylan pulled on his crisp sweatpants and shirt, the fabric hugging his jacked frame, while Diana slipped into her skirt and blouse, sexy as ever.
When she saw him in casual clothes, she frowned.
She told him that he needed to come to work today. Her voice was gentle when she said it. Her reason was because it was an impossible day. With deadlines and client files to handle.
For Dylan, that sounded like every other day.
But he decided to go with her, since she came all the way here. Even though he agreed, it was clear that she wasn't plainly ordering him about like usual.
The dynamic had changed.
Dylan wondered how it would affect them in the office. Whether others would notice.
Diana herself did seem to notice. The way he acknowledged her authority while showing he wasn't just following orders blindly.
She blinked, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but nodded.
"Okay then. That's good."
They walked out of his apartment, went down the elevator, out of the building and arrived where her sleek Mercedes was parked.
"Get in," she said, keys in hand. "I'll give you a ride."
Dylan didn't think allowing his Bride to drive him was something Elliot Baines or the Incubus King would do.
So he refused her offer and gave her his. "You get in. I'm driving."
Diana froze, her ego bristling—she was the boss, the one in charge—but those dark, enigmatic eyes and his cool confidence made her body stiffen and nipples tingle.
It frustrated her.
She grudgingly watched him take the keys from her without a word, open the door for her and waited for her to get in.
She obeyed, sliding into the passenger seat, her fingers fidgeting as she wrestled with her sternness and her growing love for him and his irresistible cock.
Dylan settled into the driver's seat after and turned on the vehicle like he owned it.
Soon, they pulled into the road and was on their way to the company building.
Diana's phone buzzed, breaking the silence.
She was on the phone with a friend. Dylan overheard that her birthday was coming that weekend. Apparently, she didn't have plans and was keeping it all low-key.
When she finished the call with a laugh, Dylan glanced at her.
He had a question.
"What's your favorite car?"
Diana raised an eyebrow, confused. When he didn't explain further, she just answered, looking out her window grudgingly.
"A Lamborghini Aventador. Why?"
"Do you own one?" he asked.
Diana chuckled. "Are you serious? Those things cost a fortune."
Dylan kept his eyes on the road, then plainly announced. "I'll get you one for your birthday."
It was something Elliot Baines would do.
Diana looked at him and instantly broke into laughter. It sounded like her usual mocking laughter, though softer.
"You? The guy who rides that beat-up motorbike? I'm way richer than you, Dylan. Stop messing around and just drive us to the company."
Dylan didn't react. He simply drove.
She stared at him.
"I'll get you the car. And when I do, you'll thank me by fucking me on top of it."
That was what he said.
Diana's eyes widened, a deep blush spreading across her cheeks as her pussy clenched, her fingers scratching nervously against each other.
'What is he saying now? Is he just trying to get to my head?'
A rush of heat flushed through her body. She pictured straddling him on the sleek hood of a Lamborghini, his cock buried inside her, and the image made her wetter.
But it wasn't possible. Unless he was going to spend his entire savings on her, there was no way Dylan could get her an Aventador.
She was literally richer than him!
They pulled into the company parking lot, the Mercedes gleaming under the late morning sun. Security guards—two men and a woman—did a double-take as Dylan stepped out of the driver's seat, his tall, jacked frame radiating quiet confidence.
He rounded the car, opening the passenger door for Diana, who stepped out, her cheeks flushed, her usual stern demeanor softened by a shy, almost girlish glow.
They walked together toward the building, her heels clicking, his strides relaxed but commanding, drawing stunned glances from the security team.
'I didn't know Miss Miller came to work with that weird guy.'
They approached the reception office to sign in. Hana, the receptionist, was staring at the both of them like them being together at a place was the most unsensible thing that had ever happened.
Eventually, her curiosity or rather distaste for Dylan, led her to speak.
"Miss Miller? Is this guy bothering you?"
Dylan instantly frowned, glaring at her with disgust.