39. King Size
KING SIZE
Asher
I could drown in her.
She tastes incredible. Like I knew she would. But somehow even better. I guess that’s what it’s like when you finally have your dream girl. She’s better than your dreams. Because she’s real and sweet and addictive on my tongue. I kiss her pussy like I can’t get enough of her because I can’t.
My hands find their way up the soft flesh of her thighs as I spread her nice and wide.
She murmurs and cries out as I lick up her pussy, sucking on her.
She arches and shudders, and that drives me on.
I trace a circle around her clit with my tongue and suck her into my mouth, making her cry out.
I listen for her cues, and I follow them, shifting from soft, fluttery licks to hungry kisses, lavishing the attention her sweet pussy deserves from my mouth.
Nothing has ever felt so right. No one has ever felt so much like mine, even though I know that’s not true.
But it’s a heady thought and a thrilling one all the same as I lick and kiss and stroke.
“God, Asher,” she whispers, then curls her hands around my head. A bolt of pleasure rushes down my body, making me even harder.
“Yeah,” I mutter against her, urging her on. “Grab my head.”
She laughs softly, then murmurs, “So controlling even when you eat me.”
I pull back, look up at her, not even smiling. Just arching a brow. “Yes, I am. Is that a problem?”
Excitement flashes across her features as she shakes her head quickly. “I like it.”
“I thought so. Now grab my head and use my fucking face like I told you to, wife.”
She huffs out a breath like she’s annoyed when her wet pussy says the opposite.
So do her hands as she wraps them tighter around me, gripping harder, letting me know she likes this too.
Every second of our back and forth. She arches her hips and soon she’s following my orders, thrusting her hips at my face.
I push on her thighs, opening her wider, lifting her knees up so her feet are at the edge of the couch.
I keep her open for me, holding her in place like that as I lick her and eat her.
I glide my hands under her ass, squeezing it hard, and fighting off a torrent of pleasure that slams into me.
Her ass in my hands is fucking spectacular. She whines and I love that too.
It’s so very Maeve. I catalog this detail—Maeve is a whiner because of course she’s a whiner.
She’s the girl who doesn’t hold back. She does everything with her whole heart and body.
So it’s not really a surprise, but it is a fucking delight that she puts her whole heart and body into getting eaten out.
She’s thrashing and writhing, rocking into my face and using me exactly how I want her to. Her nails dig into my skull, and I pray she leaves marks. I flatten my tongue, giving her wet pussy a long, lusty stroke.
She jerks, and I try not to come in my pants again while she goes wild on my mouth. My chin. No, my whole goddamn face. It’s like my mouth is a toy and she is fucking it the way she wants. I will not be Quick-Draw Asher again. Not this time.
And the thing is…I’ve never been happier, I’ve never been more turned on, I’ve never been more aroused than when she snaps her thighs to my head. Clamping them down like a vise, she surrenders and screams at the same time. She’s so loud, so into this, so very her.
“Oh god, oh god,” she chants. Wild and unleashed. And it’s everything.
My head swims with an overdose of desire as I lick and kiss her through her orgasm.
When she gently pushes back on me, I let go and wipe the back of my hand across my wet mouth as I look up at her. I don’t take a picture. Of course I don’t take a picture. But I snap this shot in my mind.
It’s perfect. Wild, disheveled, hypnotically beautiful Maeve.
Yeah, I was right. Disheveled Maeve is a very good look, and I can’t get enough of it. It’s mine. This look is all mine. I want to remember it forever because I’m pretty sure I’ve wanted this—her giving herself to me—for so much longer than I even realized.
I rise, slide a hand over my very needy hard-on in my jeans. With a contented sigh, she blinks, then her eyes travel down my body, stopping at my erection before she locks eyes with me again. “Well, are you finally going to let me feel that big dick of yours?”
I take a beat, tilting my head, giving her a lopsided grin. “I will on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“If you come all over it, nice and bare, like a good wife. Exactly the way I want you.”
“Bare,” she repeats it like I’ve invited her to Tahiti. Like going bare is a fancy tropical destination.
Well, yeah.
“I’ve been tested for everything. Negative. Are you on protection?” I ask the last question because it’s the right thing to do, though I already know the answer. I saw her pills on the bathroom counter this morning. But it’s important to ask. It’s important to talk about it.
“I’m on the pill and I’m negative too.”
A grin works its way across my face as I imagine filling her with my come. “God, I need to fuck you right now, honey.”
“Honey,” she repeats, as if she’s savoring the word on her tongue.
“You like when I call you that?”
She offers me her hand, meets my gaze with bold, hungry eyes. “Asher, I like everything.” She presses her chest flush to mine. “So, so very much.”
I want to record those words. Play them on repeat in my head. Drink them down, eat them up, subsist on them. I like everything. So, so very much.
Instead, I scoop her up, then toss her over my shoulder, easily. “Asher, I’m five-eight,” she squeals. “How can you pick me up?”
“I’m six-three and weigh more than two hundred pounds. I’m supposed to be strong. If I can’t carry you upstairs, I should be banished from the game.”
“All right. Do it then,” she says in a playful challenge.
One I fully accept as I head upstairs, carrying her the whole way, my hand on her sweet, bare ass. She hums happily as I stroke the curve of her cheek where it dips and meets the back of her thigh, the delicious crease.
But once we’re in the bedroom I’m not so playful anymore. I am horny as fuck for my wife.
I set her on the end of the bed and slide my hands up her thighs, pushing her skirt up. “You need to ride my cock right now,” I say in a tone that says I’m not fucking around when it comes to fucking. “I want to stretch you as far as I can.”
She slides her teeth along her lower lip and says, “Bet you want to watch my tits bounce too.”
I shudder out a harsh breath, then slide my thumb roughly along her bottom lip. “The sass in you. I want to fuck it right out of that pretty mouth.”
She purses her lips then blows me a seductive kiss. “Then I really should get on my knees.”
The image of her plump, pretty lips wrapped around my cock is branded on my brain, but no way can I have her the way I want if she’s sucking me off. I will come in seconds. “Next time. Right now I want you to take my clothes off and see what you’ve done to me,” I tell her.
She grabs at my shirt, then tugs it over my head in one swift motion. When she drags her nails over my pecs, I shudder from the feel of her fingers, from the reminder that even if I tell her what to do, she is still in charge. Hell, she holds me in the palm of her hand even if I’m setting the pace.
This woman simply owns me.
I can’t look away as she runs those long cherry red nails through my chest hair, playing with it before roaming down my abs, then to the button on my jeans, and undoing them. In no time she drops to her knees, and she pushes my jeans down. Then shrugs. “Oops, I couldn’t wait.”
“Maeve,” I say in a warning.
She pouts. And yep, I knew she’d be good at that too—pouting. She does everything to the fullest. “But I like your dick so much. Are you sure I can’t suck your big dick?”
I close my eyes for a second, then open them to run a finger over her lips. “I think you really like saying that.”
“I can’t help it. I like king-size in everything.”
I tip my head back and laugh. Then smile smugly, but grateful, too, that I’ve got the goods she wants. But I don’t have it in me to deny my wife. “Then take it out and I’ll let you have one good, long lick before I fuck you the way you need to be fucked.”
She pushes my jeans down and I step out of them. When she sets eyes on my boxer briefs, she wiggles her brows. “Monkeys swinging on vines?”
It’s not really a question. It’s like an insider secret as she hearkens back to Vegas and to the night she became mine—when we walked past the monkey business ad from CheekyBeast.
Soon after that, she became mine for a night, but then unexpectedly mine for a little longer. And this time, she’s deliberately mine for now. She pushes down on my boxer briefs with the monkey prints till my cock springs free, hard, throbbing, leaking at the tip.
She rubs it against her cheek. I think I might die of lust. Pleasure’s burning a path through my body as she drags my hard shaft over her soft face, along her cheek, over her lips.
It’s the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life, like she’s a cat, marking her person.
Only Maeve is marking my dick. Or maybe I’m marking her. I don’t even know anymore.
She parts her lips, looking ravenous. “It’s seriously so pretty I want to paint it.”
I laugh again. “I thought you didn’t do nudes.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t. I think I’m a little obsessed with your dick. Is that okay?”
I stroke her hair. “I’m obsessed with your hair.” I run the backs of my fingers against her cheek. “Your face.” I brush a thumb over her lips. “Your mouth.”
Then silently…you.
She drops her face and draws the tip between those pretty lips. My bones crackle. She looks spectacular, then even better when she opens wider and swallows me inch by inch, her eyes sparking with lust and excitement as she takes me deeper. My blood heats like the sun.