His Fury, Her Defiance

They had been having a terrific argument. Really it was a fight. Iris almost couldn’t believe she was raising her voice so angrily to her husband, her beloved man. But at the moment he was wrong. Everything he said was wrong. The issue wasn’t even that important. It was how he framed his words that made her mad. Now he was mad and pitching into her, raising her contrariness. And yet, the whole time as she stood fuming by the long dresser, she found her eyes wandering over Mac’s hard, tanned chest. He was shirtless, in the process of changing for bed, and the heat biting into his words revealed itself physically in the flexing of his neck and upper arm muscles.

Quit thinking about that, you fool. So the man’s tall and slim with the dark hair you love running his hands through. Right now you’re mad and not mad for him. She tried to swat the thoughts away and pay attention to what he had just said.

“…going to bed and I don’t care whether you come or not!” Mac concluded.

She felt her chin tighten furiously. “Well that’s fine!” Something in her head echoed that it was not fine.

“On second thought, you need space, obviously,” Mac added shortly. He jerked some clothes out of the dresser. “I’ll go find a motel until you cool off. Is that okay with you?” His tone was sarcastic, the flash in his piercing green eyes maddening.

Iris took a long breath, her lips shut. She was boiling but didn’t want to say something she’d really regret. Besides, the idea of Mac actually leaving, even if only to get his own temper under control, suddenly filled her with a different passion. With a quick exhale and a shrug, she moved away from him and walked over to the bed. “If that’s what you want.”

“Oh, come on!” Mac rejoined in frustration. “You know that’s a stupid thing to say.”

Iris sat down on the king bed, then reclined back on her elbows and looked at him, taking some slow breaths. “I didn’t suggest the motel,” she observed coolly.

It didn’t escape her that his eyes shifted from her face to her breasts, half-exposed by the slip’s neckline and swelling and falling with each breath. A little thrill ran through her, feeling his gaze on her body.

“Show me you want something different.”

He stood still for a second. The muscles in his neck went taut. Their movement ignited her desire for him.

“Unless a motel is more inviting,” she added.

Suddenly he jerked off the shirt he’d just pulled on and in a stride reached her. “I’ll show you all right,” he muttered, holding her in a masterful grip as he pushed her down and pressed himself over her. His jaw muscles kept flexing; evidently he was wrestling between his anger and his arousal. But when Iris slowly, sensually licked her lips and then bit down on her teeth, he knew his arousal had won. His mouth attacked hers in a long, wild, almost furious kiss.

Any anger on her part had about vanished. She loved it when he took charge and took her, even getting rough. The way he pinned her down, grasping her wrists and locking his legs around hers, melted her.

When he broke away and looked at her, he demanded, “Does that show you what I want?”

She hesitated. She didn’t want the moment to be over yet. “Not quite.”

Mac’s eyebrow flicked and the faintest twitch of a smile played with the corner of his lips. He was lying over her, raised by his forearms enough to give her breathing room. Suddenly he reached up and tore the thin strap of her slip. She gasped. Then he did the other one. He jerked the fabric down deliberately off her breasts.

“You ruined my –” she began, but he cut her off by planting his mouth on hers again. His hands squeezed and massaged her big tender globes, eliciting a moan from her. He moved his lips to her nipples, sucking them as if he could draw nectar from them and biting them more sharply than he usually did. She let out quick cries, aching and enjoying it.

“All right, you little siren, you…glorious seductress,” Mac grunted, raising himself and pushing down his trousers and shorts, “no more flippancy. I’ll make you beg for me so you’ll never let me go off in a huff again!” One jerk and he had pulled off her panties, then he plunged his burning shaft into her wetness.

Iris screamed. “Oh you’re so damn thick!”

Dropping his face against her breasts, Mac proceeded to ram his manhood as deeply as possible into his wife. At every thrust, Iris shouted. He’d never been this intense, this mad in his lovemaking. The animalistic hunger contorted his face, parting his lips and gritting his teeth together. When Iris slowly, sensually licked her lips and then bit down on her teeth, he knew his arousal had won. His mouth attacked hers in a long, wild, almost furious kiss.

She let out a long, shuddering moan as he continued his assault. The world narrowed to the feel of his body against hers, the scent of his arousal filling her senses. She arched her back, pulling him closer, desperate for more. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through her body, making her muscles clench and her breath come in ragged gasps. She felt herself losing control, surrendering completely to the moment. The heat of his body against hers, the frantic rhythm of his movements, the raw intensity of their encounter – it was overwhelming, intoxicating.

As he pulled back, panting heavily, he looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of pleasure and dominance. “Do you want me to go to that motel?” he asked huskily.

“No, no! Put it back…keep going!” she implored.

He thrust once and drew back. Her private garden convulsed and dripped, begging for his shaft. He grinned, though in a strangely savage manner.

“You didn’t seem to care a few minutes ago if I went,” he prodded.

“I don’t want you to go! Don’t leave, darling.”

Mac couldn’t help laughing, still catching his breath. “I was being a jerk. I’m sorry, baby.”

“I’m sorry too. Don’t ever let me go.”

He pressed himself back against her, his body radiating heat. He began to stroke her, slowly, deliberately, savoring the feel of her skin beneath his hands. His touch was both gentle and insistent, teasing and tantalizing. He moved down her body, exploring every curve and contour, until he reached her thighs. He gripped them tightly, pulling her closer, and began to ride her with renewed vigor.

As he continued his assault, Iris felt herself losing all control. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming. She cried out, lost in the moment, unable to resist his touch. The world spun around her, blurring into a haze of sensation. She clung to him, desperate to keep him close, to keep the pleasure flowing.

He pulled back, catching his breath, and looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and amusement. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, before plunging back into her, deeper than before.

The heat intensified, consuming her entirely. She moaned, begging for more, her body writhing in ecstasy. The rhythmic thrusts continued, each one sending shivers down her spine. She felt herself losing herself in the experience, dissolving into the pleasure. Time ceased to exist, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of being completely consumed by desire.

As he finally pulled back, exhausted but satisfied, he looked at her, his eyes glowing with passion. “I love you,” he murmured, before kissing her deeply, sealing the moment with a tender and passionate embrace. The argument was long forgotten, replaced by the undeniable reality of their love and the raw, primal connection they shared. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You’re mine, and you’ll never let me go." The words hung in the air, a promise of endless pleasure and devotion.

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