Chapter 670: Chapter 670 ChoiceKristine’s skin was buzzing. Her heart pounded wildly.
Her nipples were painfully hard beneath the fabric of her dress, and her lower body throbbed with aching need.
Her pussy clenched with every movement of his hips, every squeeze of his hands, growing wetter by the second.
She couldn’t believe how wet she was. How ready. How desperate.
Her mind screamed that this was wrong. That she was married. That she needed to stop.
But her body didn’t care. Her body had already decided.
Ross’s large hands roamed her curves confidently, like he had every right to touch her.
One hand slid down her back and squeezed her ass—firm, greedy, and deliberate.
She moaned again, louder this time, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
Her legs tightened around him. She could feel every hard inch of his arousal pressing against the heat between her thighs, separated only by the thin barrier of fabric.
The pressure was maddening. She ground against him without thinking, her body reacting on its own.
Every little movement stoked the fire inside her, fanning it higher, hotter.
God, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt like this.
Ross leaned down and whispered against her lips, voice low and rough.
“You feel so soft and nice, Kristine.”
She whimpered softly, eyes fluttering closed. The sound of her name on his lips made her shiver.
It felt so wrong.
But it felt even better.
Ross kissed her again, slower this time but no less intense.
His hips pushed against her instinctively, and Kristine could feel the outline of his cock grinding between her thighs, teasing her in the most delicious way.
She gasped into his mouth, then pulled back just slightly, breathing hard.
“Ross…” she whispered, her voice strained. “We shouldn’t…”
But even as the words left her mouth, her hands slid up to his shoulders, holding him close.
She didn’t push him away. She couldn’t.
Ross met her gaze, his eyes dark with desire but steady. Calm. Confident.
“I know,” he murmured.
Then, without another word, he turned and carried her toward the bedroom.
Every step sent a fresh jolt of heat through her as her body stayed pressed to his.
The door behind them creaked open, the shadows of the room swallowing them whole.
And still, Kristine didn’t say no.
She didn’t stop him.
Because deep down, a part of her didn’t want to.
Not tonight.
Thud.
Ross dropped Kristine onto the bed with effortless strength, her body bouncing slightly against the soft mattress.
The room was quiet—too quiet. Just the two of them now, locked in this moment, the air heavy with anticipation and unspoken desires.
He had brought her to her own room, leaving Sasha passed out in the other room next door.
The house was theirs for the weekend, secluded and spacious, perched beside a private beach that stretched endlessly under the dark sky.
No neighbors. No interruptions. No one to hear them, no matter how loud things got.
They could scream. Moan. Lose control. And no one would ever know.
Ross didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His hands did the talking.
With a hunter’s focus, he moved over her, his hands gliding along her curves with excitement and hunger.
They roamed over her body, tracing the shape of her waist, sliding up her front until he reached her full, heaving breasts—those same breasts he’d been stealing glances at all day as they played in the water, as her soaked swimsuit clung to her in all the right places.
Kristine gasped as his fingers found their prize.
Even through the fabric of her bra, she could feel the heat of his touch, the rough pads of his fingers igniting sparks under her skin.
But the bra didn’t last long.
With one swift, practiced motion, Ross reached behind her and unhooked it.
The clasp snapped open with a soft click, and the straps fell away, revealing her bare breasts to the cool air—and to his hungry eyes.
He groaned under his breath, clearly savoring the sight of her.
Kristine arched her back instinctively, lips parting as Ross cupped one breast with both hands—firm, warm, possessive.
His thumbs circled her nipples, teasing them into hardened peaks, and she let out a sweet, breathy moan.
“Ohhhhhh…” she sighed, her voice barely above a whisper.
She couldn’t believe how sensitive she was.
Every touch felt amplified, as if her body had been waiting—aching—for this kind of attention for far too long.
While one hand played with her breast, his other worked its way down, gathering the fabric of her dress and slowly tugging it upward, baring more of her thighs, her hips, her trembling body.
Her skin burned under his touch. She felt hot all over—flushed, aching, desperate.
Everything felt unreal.
How did this happen? she thought hazily.
She was married. This shouldn’t be happening.
But here she was—lying beneath Ross, letting him undress her, touch her, own her body in a way no one ever had before.
Her thoughts blurred as she felt her panties dampen further, her arousal building by the second.
She could feel the slickness spreading, soaking the thin fabric, her body betraying her more clearly than words ever could.
She was dripping. Practically begging for it—and he hadn’t even taken off his clothes yet.
Her heart pounded in her chest as realization crashed over her.
She wasn’t just aroused.
She wanted him.
All of him.
She could feel her pussy pulsing, leaking, preparing itself for what it already anticipated: a deep, hard fuck from Ross’s thick cock.
Her body wasn’t just ready—it was eager, as if every drop of her desire had been stored up, waiting for this exact moment.
And still, even through the haze of lust, part of her whispered, This is wrong.
But the louder voice—the one she couldn’t ignore anymore—simply moaned, More.
Ross didn’t waste a second.
His mouth descended upon Kristine’s breast with hunger, his lips wrapping around the tender mound as if he’d been waiting all day, all this time, to taste her.