Chapter 14

14

A urelia was having the most wicked of dreams. Michalis was telling her to open her legs. She obeyed, but that wasn’t enough. He pushed them wider, up toward her chest and out, exposing her feminine sheath, somehow holding her there while his mouth and hands did wicked, wicked things, stoking a raging fire within her. In her dream, he knew exactly what she wanted. What she needed. Craved.

His fingers slid across her slick folds, teasing her swollen pink bud and then slipping inside of her. Two, and then three fingers stretched her, drove into her, then leaving her begging for more. Blindfolded in her dream, she couldn’t see him watching her wanton display, but she could feel his heated gaze upon her naked body. He was searing her with his eyes. She was his to do with as he pleased. Dream Michalis groaned with approval as she sank her fingers into his hair and pushed him down where she needed him.

His chuckle, a sound of pure wickedness, made her shiver with anticipation, wondering what he would do next. She didn’t have to wait long. His tongue invaded her sopping wet core, lapping up her juices like a man starved for her nectar. His tongue swirled around her clitoris, dipping inside of her, then sucking on it roughly, forcing his name from her lips as she begged for more.

Her back arched as a climax rippled through her core. Suddenly, she was no longer asleep. The room around her spun into focus. She was bound at the knees with silk restraints to the four-poster bed, her hands buried in his hair, moaning in pleasure as Michalis licked and sucked her throbbing center––her dream no longer a dream. She tried to close her legs, but the bindings wouldn’t allow it as her climax, hot and out of control, continued to roar through her body.

"Michalis!" she moaned, "oh god, what’s happening?"

He looked up at her with a wicked glint in his eyes before he pulled away. She whimpered in disappointment as the cool air cooled her overheated skin. How had she slept through so much?

Before she could ask how she got there, he leaned in and whispered darkly in her ear, "You know what is happening. I intend to learn every nuance of my wife’s body, every secret place that makes her sing for me."

His words sent shivers down her spine as he kissed his way up to her earlobe and nipped it gently. He stroked and kissed and teased his way over every erogenous part of her body––the sensitive nape of her neck, her nipples, her stomach, her inner thighs. His expert touch sent shivers down her spine as he worked his way back up to her most sensitive spot.

"Please," she begged, "I can't... I can't take it anymore," she whined as arousal pooled between her legs. She gasped and arched her back, trying to get more contact with him. He chuckled darkly and slid two fingers inside of her again, curving them upward to find that bundle of nerves that would send her over the edge when he touched it just right.

“I want you to open your eyes and watch me take you, watch me come inside you. I’m going to make you come until you can’t think straight and all you can do is scream my name.”

“Michalis! Oh, god!” Passion flared inside her, and she whimpered in surrender, wanting to give him whatever he desired.

Michalis growled low in his throat as Aurelia obeyed his command, watching his glistening shaft leaking precum as he slid up and down against her core, preparing her. She begged him to take her—begged him to claim what was his, mark her as his own in the most primal way possible.

“That’s right. You belong to me, Aurelia,” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “I’ll never let you go.” He pushed inside her core, stretching her inch by slow inch until every part of him was inside of her. Then he pulled most of the way out, and with one swift thrust, he impaled her slick channel with his thick length. His hips slammed against hers like an unstoppable force, his hands gripping her open thighs as she cried out. Every time he bottomed out inside of her, he groaned and whispered incoherent words in Greek against the shell of her ear—pleas for more or declarations of possession––she couldn’t tell; it didn’t matter anymore. Her entire world narrowed down to the hot friction between their bodies, every nerve ending on fire beneath his savage ministrations.

She was consumed by the heat of his touch, her skin alive with sensations that sent her into a frenzy of desire. She was at his mercy, bound but willingly surrendering to the primal pleasure that he bestowed upon her with every thrust. Her legs strained against the silk ties, begging for a release from the exquisite torment that only he could provide. And as she clawed at the mattress beneath her, she knew that she was completely open to him, watching––feeling––every hard ridge as he drove into her, claiming her as his own. “Michalis…you’re making me…oh…oh god…yeeess!”

He grinned wolfishly down at her, his hands possessively gripping her thighs as he pumped into her, relishing every gasp and moan that fell from her swollen lips. “Come for me, ómorfi gynaíka mou ––my beautiful wife––show me how much you want me inside you,” he growled as he continued to piston into her mercilessly; powerfully-- intent on leaving his mark on every single aching cell within her quaking form.

And then it hit; like a tidal wave crashing over them both at once. He shouted as hot seed spurted into her. She screamed out his name, her body clenching around him, forcing every last drop from him as her climax barreled through her. Tremors wracked her spasming channel as wave after wave coursed through her entire being, centering in her core where he was still joined to her.

His thrusts slowly stilled, fully spent. With a satisfied groan, he slipped out of her and released her knees from the restraints, then pulled her, unresisting, on top of him. His hands stroked lazily through her long hair, soothing them both into a state of sleepy bliss. Dawn had yet to make an appearance, and he couldn’t help but wonder how his wife would react when she woke up in the morning, still in the master suite. Now that she was here, he had no intention of letting her go back to the guest room. She was right where she belongs: next to him.

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