Chapter 40 #2
Matteo breaks our kiss just long enough to pepper my neck with languid pecks, his tongue licking its slope before biting into the swell of my breasts, leaving his mark on my tender flesh.
I hold onto him while my fingers run through his hair, my head falling back to give him all the room he needs to kiss his way to my exposed breasts.
He takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking on it, while his other hand pulls up my dress, sliding in between my thighs.
I open my legs wider for him, which he takes as an invitation to stroke his fingers through my glistening slit.
“I’m not sure if I should be angry or elated that we went into town and my wife decided that a bra and panties were just too much clothes for her to put on tonight.”
“Maybe I was hoping you’d finally take the hint.”
“Oh, I got the hint, alright. I can smell you from here, wife,” he groans, biting my other nipple until I’m rubbing my ass on his lap. “Fuck. A better man would take you home and make love to you on a bed the first time.”
“I don’t want such a man. I want you. Just you,” I purr, licking my lips when his thumb begins to strum my clit in circular motions.
“You have me, Anna. You fucking have me,” he says, grabbing my chin and crashing his lips on mine again.
I let out a little yelp when he picks me up as if I were some kind of ragdoll, placing me back on his lap, this time with me straddling him.
“Take my cock into your hand, sweetheart,” he says between kisses.
Not having to be told twice, I make quick work of unbuckling Matteo’s belt and sliding his zipper down.
The weight of his hard cock bobs in my hand, the velvety smooth feel of him igniting my insides.
I give him one full stroke, loving how he hisses out a garbled version of my name.
My thumb draws a circle around his crown, his salty essence rubbing itself all over the pad of my finger.
Before I overanalyze it, I suck it into my mouth, his dark eyes becoming even more heady with lust and desire.
“You never did like playing fair, did you, wife?” he says, clutching my chin in his grip.
“Not when it comes to you, husband.”
A smirk crests his lips as he lifts just enough off the chair for me to pull his pants and boxers down, and then follows the move by grabbing the hem of my dress and helping me pull it over my head, throwing it to the sand.
The sound of waves crashing doesn’t compare to the violent sound of my heart splitting open at the sight in his eyes.
He’s taking me in with such reverence that it takes my breath away.
“Mine,” he repeats the word, his fingers trailing up and down my torso, leaving an infernal heat in their wake. “Forever… mine.”
Matteo’s eyes then look up at me, so soft, so young, that I’m reminded that he’s still in his mid-twenties, only seven years older than me.
The only reason he looks older than his years is that he was forced to grow up far too quickly just to protect the ones he loved.
And he’ll do the same for me. In this very second, I see that there is nothing he won’t do for me.
No war he won’t fight. No sacrifice he won’t make. As long as I am his. And he is mine.
“I know, sweetheart. I know. We’re getting there,” he says as if sensing how much I need him right now. “We have to go slow, okay?”
I nod, though the last thing I want to do is go slow.
We’ve been going painfully slow as it is.
Matteo grabs my hips with one hand while positioning his cock with the other.
Ever so slowly, he guides me down, my core opening itself up to him.
When I feel a burning pinch at my entrance, I lean my temple to his and breathe through the pain.
“Fuck, baby, I don’t want to hurt you,” he stammers, sounding like he’s in agony.
“You’re not. Don’t stop,” I order, placing my hands on his shoulders and slowly descending myself on his hard length. It feels like there is no end, though. Like every inch only reveals another.
“You’re doing so good, wife. Look at you. You look so beautiful right now, taking my cock, inch by inch,” he praises, knowing his words are enough to relax me.
“I really wish you weren’t so big,” I lament, to which he responds by beginning to chuckle. “You think this is funny?”
“Believe me, baby. It might hurt right now, but give it a few times. You’ll be happy your husband has a nine-inch cock soon enough.”
“Nine inches?” My eyes widen. “It’s going to rip me open,” I stammer in fear.
“Anna, look at me,” he says, his voice losing all its amusement. “We can stop if you want. But I would never intentionally hurt you. I would rather slice my wrists open, right here, right now, than ever cause you pain.”
Matteo’s honesty is the only thing eradicating my nerves.
I hold onto his gaze and let my body mold itself to him, inch by torturous inch.
When I finally get to its base, I feel as if I’d just won a gold medal or climbed Mount Everest. Surely those accomplishments pale in comparison to surviving my husband’s cock—all nine inches of him.
“How do you feel?” he asks after a while.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” I smile at him, only to see beads of sweat coating his brow. “Are you okay?” He swallows and nods. “You’re lying. No lies, remember?”
“I’m not lying, sweetheart. Your tight pussy is strangling my cock. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Trust me.”
“Then why—”
“I need to fuck you, baby, and it’s taking everything in me not to right now. Not until I’m sure you can take it.”
“I can take it,” I say with a certainty I don’t really feel.
“No lies, wife, remember?” he smiles, but the misery in his eyes calls to my soul.
Knowing he won’t do it, I use my hands on his shoulders for balance and lift myself up, moaning when I drop on his lap again.
“Jesus fuck.” He bites into his bottom lip. “Anna… wait… sweetheart.”
I’m tired of waiting. I want this. I want him. And if I have to take what I want, then so be it.
Using a tempo that doesn’t cause me too much pain, I lift and fall off him, feeling his cock stretch my walls with every punishing drive.
When the pain subsides, giving way to pleasure, my head falls back of its own accord.
I keep to my maddening tempo, bouncing myself on his lap, while the cool ocean breeze wraps itself around us, tethering me to the moment.
I hear Matteo say something in Italian, but honestly, I can’t make out what he just said.
My mind is a blank slate right now since I’m all sensation and desire.
And still I need more. This slow, languid tempo is no longer cutting it.
And as if Matteo plucked the thought out of my head and made it his own, I feel his hands on my hips, taking charge, forcing our bodies to begin to slap against each other in a hurried tempo.
I’m gasping for breath when his palm presses below the hollow of my throat, running it down until it’s between us, sliding to where our bodies meet.
“Oh, my God!” I shout out when I feel his deft fingers add pressure to my clit, his cock pounding me without restraint.
“That’s it, wife. Milk me dry. Use that pretty pussy to swallow me whole,” he says, his voice dropping an octave.
“Matteo,” I pant, holding onto him for dear life as he thrusts deep inside of me. “I’m close. I’m so close.”
He shoves his hand into my short hair, angling my face in a way that I have no choice but to look him in the eye.
“I love you so much,” he says in pain. “You are my light, Anna. You are the beauty I see in the world.” My core constricts at his words, my body convulsing around him.
“Oh, fuck, baby. Come with me,” he curses, pounding into me while my soul takes flight.
And just as it’s reaching the heavens, fireworks light up the sky as if celebrating this glorious moment with us.
My smile is stretched wide when I pull my gaze from the colorful fireworks and onto my husband’s face. He brushes the wet strands off my face, cupping it in his hands and pressing his temple to mine.
“You are my beauty, Anna. My reason for being. I love you.”
With a sweet kiss, he vows to love me for all eternity. And though I don’t say it back, a part of my soul whispers in his ear that it will always belong to him. That I am forever his.
Even if it dooms us all.