17. Vian #2
My fingers curl around her throat, and I rub my thumb along her pulse. “Why are you such a bad girl, wanting to provoke me, call out the monster and push away the gentleman?”
“I don’t know, Vian…”
Tipping her head back, I nibble along her jaw. “Because you want me to make you surrender, take your will and bend you to my desire.”
She clutches my forearms, looking back at me with so much trust and lust it decimates my control.
I unravel at the seams, so I lift her by the ass and bring her to the counter.
With the back of my hand, I clear it, glasses and plates shattering.
I don’t care. I want to remember every day I have breakfast that her need consumed her, mirroring mine, and we clashed in fiery passion. Desperate. Unstoppable. Uncontrollable.
“Undress me.”
With shaky fingers, she unbuttons my shirt, but she loses patience halfway and rips it apart, scattering the buttons all over the floor, just like my reservations.
I shimmy out of it, throwing the shirt aside, and she moves to my pants, yanking at the zipper as I slide down her top and her breasts swell, overflowing her bra.
With a flick of my fingers, I unhook it, then peel down her romper and thong.
She looks so flushed. So ready for me to take her.
“Lean on your forearms and spread those thighs for me.”
She obeys so beautifully for me, making my cock so damn hard I could pound her into the damn surface.
Naked, I step back to admire my dream woman, my life’s true and only love, the very pulse of my being.
I settle myself between her legs and wrap my hand around her neck, dragging her to my lips and kissing her hard and long enough that she moans, clawing at my chest with sheer desire and increasing despair.
I should prepare her better, take my time, but I can’t control myself. Instead, I grip my cock and guide it to her entrance.
Not to lose the dazed look on her face even once, I hold her gaze captive. “Sorry, mi sol, I need you too much.” I spear into her, bottoming out in her hot and tight core.
She cries out, her eyes welling up while I groan in pleasure, and she arches up. A tremor rocks her, leaving her shaking.
I draw circles on her thighs as I kiss her to distract her from the intrusion, saying between them, “You’re doing so well, taking all of me.”
I am marking her from the inside out, but she is marking me from the outside in, her nails piercing my back as she drags them down.
I’ll wear the scratches with pride, as I’ve earned them, craving them on my back for the rest of my life.
“You’re truly fucked, baby.”
“Why?” she breathes out.
“You provoked the beast, wanted to test my stamina. Good luck.”
“You’re going to kill me,” she moans, throwing her head back as I lick down her slender neck, wrapping my mouth around one cherry nipple then the other, giving both the same attention.
My hands glide over every inch of her skin, following the mental map engraved in my brain to worship every inch and remind her who she belongs to.
The physical contact is exquisite, but it’s the intimacy stretching between us that makes it so much better. Our eyes lock and our hearts beat the same rhythm––each other’s name, a steady thump thump of shared love and unbound passion.
I drive into her like I am on a mission––to never resurface, losing myself to the indescribable feeling of her tight pussy strangling me, her walls massaging me and gripping me so well, nothing remains but pure rapture.
“So good,” she says, seeking my lips and wrapping her arms around my neck.
I stay buried in her, eliciting a tremor before I gently rock in and out of her, alternating between hard thrusts and gentle pushes.
She comes on a stuttered breath, kissing me, teeth and tongue, constricting around my length. Her strangling my cock feels so damn good, I slap a palm on the counter in a desperate attempt to prolong my release.
My rhythm turns frantic, and it doesn’t take long for me to abandon myself to bliss. I push one more time into her and erupt, filling her.
It’s so fucking much, my deflating cock slides out of her, and stumbling back, I see my cum leaking, dripping on the counter. I swipe it and paint her pussy lips with it.
Face flushed and skin glowing, she says in a daze, “Dirty.”
“You haven’t seen a thing, wife.”
She looks so relaxed, wearing the afterglow I put there. Gathering her in my arms, I bring her to bed. “All day and all night.” I warn her about what’s coming.
“Sure, threaten me with a good time.”
Let’s see if she thinks the same once I am done with her.
I toss her onto the bed and climb between her legs. “You’re my queen, but in the bedroom, I will fuck you like my slut, my personal fuck toy. Remember that.”
She wets her lips, and I turn her around, slapping her ass cheek. “Grip the headboard.”
The moment she does, I slam back inside her, not needing much recovery time.
Her moans spur me on, just like her meeting me thrust for thrust.
We’re more than capable of making love, but we’re sexual creatures, animals for each other, so our fucking has always been violent: passion and love colliding, driving us to test our boundaries, experience everything, and want more.
The only limit is sharing her. I could never do that, but I still fucked her with a vibrator while I took her ass.
This is just the beginning, and I can’t wait to unleash her dormant desires.