13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
Elsa
W e were frantic by the time we were in my bed, kissing, tugging at our clothes, nipping, nuzzling.
My heart pounded. The way Duncan touched me was more than any dreams I'd ever had about making love. That first time, I'd been afraid that he'd inadvertently cause me pain—after all, it was meant to hurt when you lost your virginity. But it hadn't. He had been tender, gentle, and kind. He'd been patient. He'd made me come.
On our wedding night, he'd done it again, masterfully.
I was naked before he was. His shirt was gone, but he was still in his slacks, standing over me as I sat on my bed.
"Take my pants off, ma douce ."
My hands trembled as I lowered his pants. I'd never undressed a man. My hand grazed against his cock, and he groaned. He was in white tight boxers and I could smell him, musk, leather, Duncan.
I ran my mouth over him, kissing him through the fabric of his underwear. He tangled a hand into my hair and held me close to him, rubbing himself against my lips.
I wanted to take him into my mouth. I had tried that the last time, but he'd rushed me, saying that he wanted to come inside of me. Even when he had let me that first time in the Ritz, he hadn't come in my mouth. He'd taught me how to suck him, how to give him pleasure—but it hadn't been a lengthy lesson, just a quick one.
I was nervous. Would he taste bad? Would he be too big for my mouth, my throat?
Angelique often talked about how blowjobs were the least exciting thing about the work she did.
"They don't warn me and expect me to swallow. I don't do that. Come on my tits, my stomach, even my face, but I don't drink spunk."
Would Duncan expect me to?
"Take it off," he demanded, his voice hoarse.
I hooked my fingers around the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down along with his pants. His erection sprang free, and all my doubts vanished.
"Wow," I breathed.
Duncan chuckled. "You know how to make a man feel good, ma chérie . Saying wow to his dick is a sure way to—" I licked the tip of his penis, " fuck me ."
Both his hands tangled in my hair, and they were insistent, holding me still so he could move inside my mouth. He let go after a moment and emitted a loud groan, letting me set the pace.
I looked up at him as I closed my lips around the tip of his erection and sucked hard, tasting him, feeling his textures. I thought I'd be embarrassed, but it was hot to see him watch me as he pushed into my mouth slowly.
I moaned, and my fear that I wouldn't know how to handle him when he pushed in deep went right out of the window; because it was erotic as hell for me when his dick hit the back of my throat.
My hands grabbed his ass, and he let me control his movements.
"You look so fucking beautiful taking my cock. So, fucking…God, baby, suck a little harder."
I pulled away and then let him back in. It was agonizingly wonderful to hear his rasping breath, his grunts of pleasure.
"You’re wet, ma douce ." His voice was hoarse and tight.
I nodded.
"Spread your legs. Let me see."
For some reason, I didn't feel shy. I widened my thighs, and he moaned again, his head tilted so he could see my pussy. "I can see you're wet. Play with your clit, baby. I want to see you come as I fuck your mouth; see your lips wrapped around me."
I sucked on him harder.
"I'm gonna come, Elsa." His voice was hard. He was excited and it made me feel proud. "I want you to swallow it all. Will you do that for me?"
I had no idea where my courage came from, and I nodded.
"Good girl. All of it, okay. God, baby." His eyes were hooded as we continued to look at each other.
My finger on my clit was making me twitch. I could feel the forerunners of my orgasm, but it was more than my hand that was making me reach for release; it was watching my husband enjoy me.
I swirled my tongue around his cock, teasing him, controlling him.
"Just like that. Just like that ," he chanted.
His started to grunt now; and he began to move faster.
I feel like a sex Goddess, and my gasps become louder, coming from deep within me. I closed my eyes when he growled, "No. Let me see. I want to see. Open your fucking eyes."
I did as he asked. After that first night when he'd made love in French, I had wondered how it would be to make love in English—and I preferred him like this, losing control, unable to string words together.
He poured into my throat right as I unraveled. It was amazing and brutal, dirty and pure.
"Open your mouth, baby, let me see," he pleaded as he held his dick, painting my lips with his cum.
I did as he asked and he moaned, "Such a good girl. You swallowed it all?”
I couldn't. Some semen dripped down my chin. He didn't taste as bad as I thought he would. He didn't taste good either, however, it wasn't unpleasant. But really, it didn't matter because the biggest turn-on was how he had been at mercy.
His breathing remained erratic as he pushed me to lie down. "Move up," he growled. "I want to eat my pussy."
My pussy ?
I wanted to bristle at his possessiveness and show him I was a feminist, but it was delicious to be owned by him.
"Since I blew my cock ," I smiled languidly, "you can have your pussy ."
His eyes glinted with pleasure. "My cock is yours. The bastard is enamored. Doesn't want anyone but you."
He crawled between my legs, and I waited, anticipation making my nerve endings scream. I loved how he tasted me, how he made me come with his tongue.
He dragged his nose over my pussy and then kissed my quivering flesh gently, almost reverently. He placed both his hands on my inner thighs, spreading me, holding me open for him. He didn't give me time to think. Almost, instantly, his tongue was on my clit, circling it, teasing me. He dragged his tongue over my slit, gently nibbling and biting just a little harder without warning. I was delirious, wanting desperately to come but also not too fast. I didn't want this to stop. I wanted to keep feeling this euphoria, this mindlessness.
He put a hand on my stomach, cupping our baby.
"Your pussy is darker since you got pregnant," he mumbled against my heated wet flesh, "so fucking beautiful."
He put his other hand over my mound, brushing against my clit.
"You want to come on my mouth, don't you?"
" Oui ." I could barely form the word.
He moved and hauled me up so my legs were wrapped around his shoulder; I couldn't help it as I rubbed my pussy against his face. He laughed, enjoying his power over me as I'd just celebrated mine over him.
He pushed two fingers into me, pumping in and out as his tongue stroked my clit. "Look at me, ma douce ."
I did, but my eyelids felt heavy.
"You want to come, baby."
" Oui ."
"Then fucking come." He pushed a third finger inside me, and it was a dual assault. His fingers rubbed against what I'd discovered was my G-spot as his mouth suckled my clitoris.
My eyes closed as one of the strongest orgasms I ever had took me over. I couldn't think, I could only feel. Nothing was real except Duncan, my husband, my man, the father of my child.