18. Cara
18
CARA
“ S trip.”
Goosebumps broke out over my skin at his command. The need in his stare taunted me, and I wondered if he was playing with my head.
He wanted to enjoy me. That was what he just told me in the hallway. It sounded like a dare. A challenge. An invitation to make him feel good while fucking me.
I knew he enjoyed it. I felt him twitch deep inside me twice now. Both times he’d fucked me hard, he came.
“I thought I already tried that,” I argued, too stubborn to just give in no matter how much my body wanted him. My nipples beaded up. So sweet and tense, an ache took form in my stomach. Already, my panties were wet from his looking at me like that. And the kiss. The second one, where he tasted me and finished the lip lock with a nip.
He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. Haughty and hot. Fuck, he was sex personified. The devil himself, all wicked and expectant.
Just an hour ago, I had tried to strip. And he’d rejected me. He’d told me no. When he shut down my offer, I felt lost and confused, hurt and disappointed because I’d looked forward to that sweet release of coming for him.
“Strip, Cara.”
Was it a matter of control? He wanted to tell me to do it rather than let me have the power to take the initiative?
I lifted my fingers anyway, beholden to please him. If I gave in, if I obeyed him, he’d see to it that I’d come. Hard.
Nothing was sweet about him, but he seemed to get off on making me come apart.
And that would do.
He watched me as I unbuttoned my shirt. His caress felt like a tangible, hot caress as I removed my jeans. After I kicked them aside, thrilled to have his attention on me like this, I felt dizzy under the heady pressure of power. Of mighty strength. I was doing this. His stare was locked on me . No one else.
I was the one making his dick harden under his pants. It was because of my actions that he growled and stared like he’d erupt before even touching me.
I’d never stripped for him. For anyone. I doubted it was sexy. I didn’t have the grace to dance or even pull off a sultry sway of my hips as I removed my damp panties, wet with my cream.
And as I reached back to unclasp my bra, I shivered at the promise in his eyes.
“Now me,” he ordered once I was naked.
I walked over to him, feeling confined with his instruction. Unlike all the worries that made up my life, this expectation felt good. Like a reward. Obeying my husband wasn’t a job to do but a treasure to explore.
I pulled his shirt off, taunted with the expanse of his taut skin. All his muscles were so hard and tense. His pecs. Those abs. God, his arms were so ripped and solid, he looked like a brutish warrior.
As I lowered my fingers to his pants, I sank to my knees. Trembling with the desire coursing through me, I tugged his pants and boxers down. I’d felt his thickness in my pussy. I recalled the wide stretch of him filling me.
When his penis was revealed, though, springing out hard and stiff, so long and veined, I gasped. I couldn’t take my eyes off his cock, tempted to taste the drops of moisture leaking from the tip.
Why not? I acted on impulse, deciding it wouldn’t hurt him if I chose to seek my pleasure too. I’d never taken a man’s erection into my mouth. I was clueless, ignorant and clumsy, but he didn’t protest when I swiped the tip of my tongue over his bulbous head.
A grunt left his lips, and he thrust his hips out more.
Smiling, I kissed his cock, marveling at the soft yet hard texture. The pulse of his desire. All of his?—
I reared back, blinking and furrowing my brow.
“What?” he growled.
“Are—” I swallowed. I didn’t care if I angered him. I signed up to be married to him for six months, but I would be damned if I got a disease for life. “Are you clean?”
He rolled his eyes, grabbing my head and thrusting his cock into my mouth, silencing me as he fucked me.
“I am clean. I only sleep with you.”
I moaned, turned on by his taste, his texture, and the salty tang of his essence.
“I tested before our wedding, and I wouldn’t dare waste a drop of my cum. It belongs in you. To make a baby.”
He groaned, gritting his teeth as he pulled out of my mouth. I panted, licking my lips and determined to get more of a taste. Knowing I pleased him turned me on more, but he wasn’t in the mood.
Picking me up under the arms, he maneuvered me to the bed. “And you’re going to take it all.”
Before I could react or agree, he turned me around in the bed and smacked my ass hard.
“Aren’t you?”
I cried out, dropping to my hands and knees on the bed. I’d lain in here alone all this time, and I realized he wouldn’t use this mattress gently. He wouldn’t treat me softly, either.
Heat seared over my flesh from his smack, but after I breathed through the sting, I relished the warmth.
“Aren’t you?” he demanded as he got off the bed and grabbed something from a bottom drawer of the nightstand I hadn’t bothered to investigate.
I nodded, enjoying the sensation of giving in, of surrendering to his plans. My breasts hung heavily, aching at the nipples. My skin felt tight, on fire. And as I rubbed my thighs together, I noticed the slickness of my juices.
He returned, tying my wrists with a long length of fabric. After I was secure, he threaded the strip over a bar in the canopy over the bed. He’d chosen a spot toward the headboard, and with the slack he gave me, I realized I could still lean over.
That was what he demanded, his hands on my shoulders as he pushed me down.
I was tied up, on my knees, my arms held forward and locked to the bed.
He dragged his hands from my shoulders, over my back, and down to my ass, rubbing harder where he’d spanked me.
“Do you think you can handle me?” he taunted. Leaning down to kiss the globes of my ass as he inched toward my pussy, he pushed me to lower my head to the mattress.
My shoulders ached at the position, but the sweet bliss of his touch overcompensated the hint of pain.
“I’ve handled it so far,” I retorted as he lifted up from me, making me miss the sweet heat of his tongue.
“So far,” he agreed before spanking my other ass cheek twice, harder.
Before I’d finished crying out, he jammed his fingers into my wet pussy, pushing hard. It wasn’t one digit. It felt thick, intrusive and forceful, and it was just what I needed.
Letting the pressure claim me, I lost all threads on my worries. It was freeing, to rely on him and let him dictate what I had to focus on—him. His touch. His demanding instructions to come.
He fingered me and stretched me, working me up to such a frenzy with alternating slaps on my ass. Knowing he was watching it all, every drip he pulled out of me, was half the thrill.
I arched my back, thrusting up to his touch, shoving my ass in the air.
“So far,” I taunted back between desperate breaths.
“Think you want more, Wife?” he growled, sliding his fingers out of my cunt. He didn’t go far, dragging his slippery fingers up to my other hole.
I tensed at the idea of his taking me there, but he slapped my ass and broke me out of thinking, of worrying and dreading.
His fingers breached me, stretching slowly but firmly as he opened me up.
And it felt… good.
Tight. Taboo. Forbidden, but so fucking good.
I groaned, feeling the slickness from my pussy. “You do,” he taunted. “You want more.” He slid his arm under me, banding it over my stomach as he pushed his finger up my ass.
Pulled upright, his arm locked over my stomach, his back braced behind me, his digit playing with my hole, he repositioned me until I was on my knees.
My arms stung with the binding. Blood drained down as my hands remained over my head, but I leaned back against him, pushed so close to an orgasm as he shoved his cock into my pussy.
His fat dick slid in. One deep, long, steady thrust into me. It felt tighter, harder, and I knew it was because of his finger still in my ass.
“More?” he growled again, leaning closer to kiss my neck. As soon as he added another finger and pumped into my pussy at the same time, he sucked on my flesh.
I cried out, lost to the overwhelming dual sensations of being so full.
Seesawing his fingers and dick, then pumping into me in sync, he fucked me hard in both holes.
Fast. Gritty, and without mercy.
“Good girl,” he praised, breathing hard as he rocked into me. “You’re a good girl. Take it all.”
I sobbed, so desperate to break apart on him and drown in that release, so close but so far.
“Take my dick,” he ordered, thrusting faster and driving me upward.
“Squeeze my fingers.” He pushed them in further, holding them in place.
“Fuck.” He grunted as my orgasm hit me. “Just like that.”
I leaned against him, snapping as my orgasm hurtled through me and tossed me into euphoria. My nerves sang with pleasure. My nipples ached with the pinprick sensation of coming at last. All through my body, I surrendered to the doubly stuffed openings that he’d mastered and played so perfectly to force me to come.
Floating on bliss, trembling as waves of my orgasm swept through me, I felt him pound into me once more and growl deeper. His muscles locked and tensed around and behind me as he held me against him. And like every other time, he shot his cum deep inside me.
For several long moments, he held me, giving us both a chance to come down from the high. I went lax against him, uncaring whether I passed out upright, but he took care of that position. He slipped out of me, and I wasn’t disappointed. He used his free hand to shove his cum back up into me before he climbed off the bed. A quick maneuver of his fingers released the binding on my wrists, and I slumped down to the bed.
Spent. Exhausted. And so blissfully free.
By the time he cleaned up and returned to me, I was half asleep. When the bed dipped, I dreamily wondered whether he was collecting his clothes or settling in to stay.
He did. He remained with me, spooning me. Holding me close, he slept in my bed with me all night long.
As I drifted in and out of sleep, I struggled to understand why.